


Comforting her

by ChocoNut



Series: The Journey or the Destination? [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward situations, Canon Compliant, Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings, Fluff, Season 3 missing scene, growing mutual attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-06-28 16:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15711186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: A series of events post Harrenhal that slowly and surely ensure that our favourite couple fall in love :)Mostly Canon-compliant, S3 Missing Scenes





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Renee561](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renee561/gifts).



> This one's for you Renee - be lovely and stay just the way you are, my friend :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime breaks the news of the Red Wedding to his wench. We know book!Jaime wanted to comfort her, what if he actually did?  
> A missing scene in the show

Jaime sighed, unfortunately he had to be the one to break the news to the wench, as neither Steelshanks nor any of their other Bolton escorts would bother. He had to tell her that Lady Catelyn, and her family were dead-murdered in cold blood by _his_ family. For the first time in his life, he was ashamed of calling himself a Lannister. He was apprehensive of facing Brienne, what would she think of him when she came to know that his father had stooped to this level? Would he end up degrading himself in her opinion because of his father’s actions?

The son had to bear the consequences of the sins of the father.

Nevertheless, it had to be him, and he had to tell her. It was past midnight and he entered the tent that he would be sharing with her for the night. Her demeanour towards him had drastically changed since he had gone back to rescue her. She spoke much lesser now-not that she had been good company earlier, as most of their conversations were pretty much one sided with Jaime always doing the talking, but he had come to observe that she was much more subdued now, and even a little- _shy_ in his presence these days. He had also caught her looking at him and blushing once or twice, whenever he stole a glance at her. _Yes, he did steal glances at her quite often these days_. If someone had told him when he had first met the wench that she could blush, he would’ve laughed, for that was not a quality that he would have ever associated with her manly personality. To his astonishment, he found himself enjoying watching her blush. Deep down, he realized that she was like any other woman-soft and sensitive.

“Brienne?” he called out gently. Still awake, she got to her feet as soon as he entered.

“Ser Jaime,” she nodded, acknowledging his presence.

Her face looked radiant in the soft glow of the candlelight, was she again blushing, or was it just the reflection of the pink of her dress on her face? Her eyes-did he just notice that she had pretty eyes? _Gods, he could lose himself in them!_

_Enough of distractions, he had to get to the point._

“I have some news,” he said softly. “I’m afraid, it’s bad.”

Brienne directed her gaze at him, her innocent eyes meeting his. Jaime felt a pang of guilt, could he ever look into those eyes again after what he was about to disclose to her?

“Lady Catelyn is dead...” he hesitated, but went on. “And so are Robb Stark and his wife. I thought I should be the one to tell you.” He stopped, searching her face for a reaction. He could see distress in her eyes, and helplessness and anger, but no tears came. Not just yet.

“Who--” she started, but Jaime continued, he might as well give her the facts in their entirety.

“My father,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. He didn’t want to hide from those eyes. If she thought him to be a traitor and an honourless man because of this, he wanted to see it in her eyes, and not escape them. He wanted to face her, whatever be her reaction.

He expected an outburst and an accusation directed at him for being a Lannister, a reaction full of vengeance, but he found himself to be at the receiving end of something entirely different-something that he had never in his wildest dreams expected of her.

Brienne’s expression softened, and her eyes shone with unshed tears. _How he wished that he could comfort her!_ He wanted to take her in his arms, hold her and console her that everything would soon be okay.

“I failed her,” was all she could say, her voice hollow and filled with despair .

Jaime couldn’t contain himself anymore. Striding across to her in a few quick steps, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close to him. For a moment, he feared that she might push him away, but to his surprise, she sank into his embrace, burying her face in his chest, her arms around his neck. They just stood there for a few seconds wrapped in each other, and then she finally broke away from him, looking slightly embarrassed. Composing herself, she slumped to the ground, dejected and disheartened. Jaime went and sat next to her.

“I hope you do not think ill of me,” he said, slightly worried about her opinion about him. “I just want to let you know that I would never dream of doing such a thing, nor do I approve of such a gruesome act.”

She looked at him, her lovely blue eyes threatening to fill with tears. “I know there is honour in you, Ser Jaime,” she whispered. “I have seen it myself. I trust you, and that you would never do such a thing. But--” her voice cracked, and she was unable to speak further.

“You have not failed her,” Jaime said comfortingly, anticipating what she was about to say. “You couldn’t have done anything. You are a far better knight than any man I have ever come across.”

“First Renly, and now Lady Catelyn,” she was beginning to break down again. “Why does this happen to everyone I swear myself to?”

Once more, driven by a fit of impulse, Jaime moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. And yet again, Brienne didn’t resist, resting her head on his shoulder. He held her tight, neither of them speaking, neither of them feeling the need to.

A little while later, her breathing had steadied and she had finally calmed down. She had fallen asleep in his arms. Jaime lightly kissed the top of her head, and the sight of her so vulnerable, helpless and in need for comfort evoked an inexplicable ache in his heart. He wanted to do everything in his power just to reassure her that things would sort themselves out. The last few months that he had spent with her had made him look at everything in a different light, he had begun to look at her from a different perspective. He mulled over his rash decision to jump into the bear-pit and realized that he would never hesitate to risk his life for her, should it come to that again.

He would be going home soon, and that would be the end of his journey with Brienne, but whatever time he had left with her, he would treasure. He would forever cherish the memories of their days together, for unknown to himself he had begun to immensely care for her.

And for a fleeting second, Jaime wished that he could sit there with her forever, never to let go of her, _his wench_.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime stops Brienne from making an impulsive mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little second chapter that I just couldn't get off my head. I had to write it. A quick one, written in an hour-any mistakes and errors are totally due to my haste to put my thoughts into words.

_Brienne screamed in agony, she was being tortured, a quick death would have been better any day than this slow and painful end. Eventually deciding to take pity on her, her assailant plunged his sword through her heart and watched her, as life slowly left her body. Until she fell to the ground, lifeless and still._

“ _Brienne, No!_ ” Jaime screamed loudly. Opening his eyes, he found himself in the tent. Relieved that this was just a dream, he made an effort to calm himself down, his heartbeat slowly coming back to normal. He remembered falling asleep the previous night, Brienne by his side-in his arms to be precise. The memory filled his heart with a strange kind of warmth that he had never experienced before. She had believed him, overlooking his Lannister name and reputation, putting his worries that she might accuse him to rest. How many people in the world believed in his word, in the Kingslayer’s honour? While the very idea sounded like a joke to everyone else, Brienne had been the first and only person to take his word to heart and trust him unconditionally.

He just happened to notice that she was nowhere to be seen in the tent. Getting up, he went out, and he could make out that it was just close to daybreak-the sun had not yet risen. He went outside looking for her, the Bolton soldiers were still asleep, and there was a deathly silence all around except for the men snoring.

Jaime realized with a start that one of the horses was missing. _Brienne!_

Where could she have gone? She would never abandon him, he had been sure of that but she did seem disturbed and upset last night. A sense of failure, and a lack of fulfilment of her responsibility had made her feel completely useless despite his efforts to raise her spirits.

A chilling thought had just crossed his mind. _Had she turned back to Harrenhal? Had she made up her mind to murder Roose Bolton and avenge Lady Catelyn?_

The personification of loyalty and morals that she was, Jaime realized that she was quite capable of acting on such a decision. _This would be nothing short of a suicide mission._ His mind went back to his dream - what if there had been some significance to it? She could be tortured and murdered by the Boltons. He had quite literally stolen her from them the last time, but if they were to get their hands on her again, what he had dreamed might end up turning into a brutal reality.

He could not allow that to happen.

 _Stubborn, foolish wench!_ And for the second time in his life, Jaime had made up his mind to go after Brienne to Harrenhal. He was almost sure that she would’ve headed there, his instinct told him so. The first rays of the sun were just beginning to show up, so she could not have been gone long. They had travelled only a few hours yesterday before they made camp here, so they were not very far off from Harrenhal, and it would not be too difficult for him to track her down, and prevent her from doing anything foolish or impulsive.

Quietly mounting his horse, Jaime set off into the dark, making his way back to Harrenhal, hoping that he might catch up with her before it was too late, hoping that he could get to her and knock some sense into her before the Boltons got her. As he rode in solitude, Jaime reflected on his change of heart towards the wench. He realised that over time, she had become so important to him, and he had grown to care for her so much that he couldn’t imagine leaving her at the mercy of the enemy. _What was it that he felt for her?_ He had asked himself that question a number of times off late, but he had no answer!

Jaime spent the next few hours in restlessness, his trepidation mounting as he neared the cursed castle. It was broad daylight now, he could be easily seen, and so could the wench. He had to hurry, but he had to be careful. As he finally neared the castle, he slowed down, stealth was more important than speed now. He knew that there was no way Brienne could have bypassed the guards and entered the gates. So she had to be lurking somewhere outside. He got off his horse and decided to look for her on foot, almost sure that he would find her somewhere here.

And there she was. He spotted her hiding among the bushes, her eyes locked on to the castle guards. He approached her from behind quietly, taking care not to startle her. The last thing he wanted was for her to scream, or worse still snap his neck. Reaching her, he clamped his hand on her mouth, and when she struggled, he grasped her waist with his stump, pulling her close.

“It’s me,” he quickly whispered in her ear, fearing that she might attack him. “Try not to kill me, will you?” Once he was satisfied that she knew it was him, he released her. She turned around and looked at him, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Ser Jaime,” she asked, shocked. “What are you doing here?”

“What the hell do _you_ think you are doing, wench?” Jaime asked her angrily “Are you out of your mind?”

“This is the only way I can redeem myself,” Brienne said in a choked voice, angry tears filling her eyes. “I have to avenge Lady Catelyn.”

“By killing Roose Bolton?” Jaime hissed. “This is a bloody suicide mission, not an assassination. You realize that, don’t you? There is no way you can succeed.”

“No one cares whether I live or die,” she said desperately. “If I die trying, I would have atleast tried.” She sounded so heartbroken, that Jaime felt terribly helpless for her. _I care whether you live or die,_ he felt like confessing. But now was not the time for him to get emotional, he had to be firm and convince her off her foolish plan and take her back.

“There are better ways to prove your loyalty to Catelyn Stark,” he said softly.

When Brienne didn’t retaliate, he was encouraged and went on “Sansa is at King’s Landing. You have a duty towards her, don’t you? If you die here, who is going to take her back to her family?”

Brienne slumped against a tree, dejected. “I don’t know--”

“Come with me, Brienne,” Jaime said gently, taking her hand in his and giving it a light squeeze. She looked at him for a long minute and then nodded, her cheeks turning a faint pink. Suddenly aware that he was still holding her hand, he let go quickly and started walking ahead, his mind totally distracted by the blush on her face at his touch.

“Ser Jaime,” she called out. He turned around.

“Why did you come after me?”

A dozen thoughts came to his mind, what could he tell her? That he couldn’t live with himself if she were to come to any harm? That he had begun to inexplicably care for her? That the last few days had him confused and alarmed over his growing attachment to her?

But Jaime only shrugged.  “ _I dreamed of you,_ ” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was purely an excuse to have Jaime say the iconic "I dreamed of you" to her.  
> Hope you liked it :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They ride back to their camp to face Steelshanks who doesn't take too kindly to their disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to add more fluff!

They rode back to their camp in silence. Brienne kept throwing him covert looks every few minutes, trying to fathom what was in his mind. _Why, exactly, had he come after her again?_ All he had done in the past, was insult her. So why then, did he try to make an effort out of the way to comfort her, to make sure that she felt better? She couldn’t understand this change of heart. Jaime Lannister was a mystery, an enigma that was beyond her comprehension.

“What are you staring at me for, wench?” he asked her playfully. “Growing fond of me, are you? Can’t resist admiring my good looks?”

Brienne felt her cheeks grow warm. “No, I just…” she stammered.

“I was just teasing you,” he said, grinning at her. “I know you’re not interested,” and he added as an afterthought “Nor am I.”

Brienne looked away from him, the last thing she wanted, was for him to catch her blushing. She knew he wasn’t interested, he never would be. He was only trying to distract her from her grief, the joke had been a good natured attempt to boost her spirits.

“You still haven’t answered me, Ser Jaime,” Brienne asked after another long spell of silence. “Why did you come after me?”

“I told you,” he sighed.

“That was not a satisfactory answer.”

“I really did dream of you, Brienne,” Jaime said, turning to look at her. “I dreamt that you had been murdered, and I…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you. I just had to come for you.”

Her heart soared at the revelation that her life mattered to him. But he was a knight, and saving people’s lives would come automatically to him. She had to be careful not to read more than necessary into his actions.

They were still a couple of hours away, when without warning it started raining heavily. With no means to protect themselves from the downpour, they were completely drenched within seconds.

“Let’s take shelter for a while among those trees,” Jaime suggested, pointing to a dense foliage. “We can carry on once the rain subsides.” They made their way to a cluster of trees, biding their time, waiting for the rain to stop.

Brienne was soaked to the bone, the thin gown stuck to her body uncomfortably, and her hair was plastered to her forehead. She felt shabby and unkempt. She knew that Jaime didn’t think much of her, when it came to her looks, but rain soaked and dirty was the worst she must have ever looked, even by her standards. _What would be be thinking of her now? Was there something worse than ugly?_ But he sat silently next to her lost in his own world, occasionally glancing in her direction.

“Why did you jump in front of the bear for me?” she asked abruptly, startling him out of his reverie.

“I really don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “I just felt like it was the right thing to do.”

“I’m not complaining, but…” Brienne had to know. “Why did you take so much effort to comfort me, to make sure that I was alright?” No one had done anything selfless for her, _ever_.

“I had no selfish motive, if that’s what you want to know,” Jaime said, looking hurt. “I’m a Lannister. I know what you think about the Lannisters, and my reputation as Kingslayer is far from clean, but I would never try to benefit off someone in pain--” he said, and then added softly “--particularly _you_.”

Brienne regretted her words immediately, doubting him or his intentions had been the last thing on her mind. “You misunderstood me. That’s not why I asked,” she said, embarrassed. “And I certainly don’t think of you as selfish or dishonourable, infact far from it...”

That was the truth. Ever since he had confessed to her about the Mad King, Brienne’s opinion about him had changed drastically, and she had developed a newfound respect for him. Not just respect, he had begun to occupy more and more of her thoughts, and she had grown to feel something for him, something that she didn’t quite understand yet.

“It has stopped raining,” Jaime observed. “We should be going. Steelshanks is not going to react well to our absence. I have to think of some story to convince him.”

+++++

They finally managed to catch up with Steelshanks and his men, they were still at the same campsite, and as Jaime had predicted, he was not too pleased to see them.

“Where the hell have you both been?” he thundered, looking at Jaime. “You’re my responsibility, Kingslayer, so do you think wandering off is going to help?”

Brienne wondered what Jaime was going to say to convince him. She had seen how well he could lie, so maybe he would unleash one of his stories again.

“I… um…” Jaime hesitated. Brienne was surprised. She had never seen Jaime struggling for words before “We…Brienne and I....both of us...” he stammered, stealing a sideways glance at Brienne, before turning back to Steelshanks.

“What?” Steelshanks growled, and when Jaime wordlessly looked at Brienne again, a look of comprehension flashed across the man’s face.

“ _You two?_ ” Steelshanks asked Jaime, taking turns looking at both of them. Brienne was still clueless-what the hell was going on?

Jaime nodded slowly. _Gods, was he blushing? And why?_

A moment or two of tense silence later, Steelshanks burst out laughing, much to Brienne’s shock and surprise.

“I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “I knew there was something going on with you, the way you were restless to go back for her, Kingslayer. The way you bargained with me, it was obvious you were ready to do anything for her.”

Understanding now dawned on Brienne. She looked down at her feet, suddenly shy and unable to face either of the men.

“But I never thought the feelings were mutual. I knew you were soft on her, Lannister, but--” Steelshanks observed, looking at Brienne now “--the way she’s blushing, what did you--”

“I’d rather not get into the details,” Jaime said coyly. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what we did. I just thought, it would be nice to sneak out a bit and have a little private moment with her. There’s nothing more exciting than a secret romance, is there?” he asked, winking at Brienne who had been gaping at him in shock at the ease with which he lied.

“A little private moment?” Steelshanks repeated. “You were out for hours!”

“We...uh...got carried away and lost track of time,” Jaime once again threw Brienne a look. “It started raining, and I couldn’t help myself…” he trailed off apologetically.

“Carried away?” Steelshanks asked in disbelief. “I should’ve guessed what you had been upto, it’s quite obvious looking at you both,” Brienne blushed, remembering that her clothes were wet and messy, and the image that it would have conveyed to the men here.

“I didn’t know you were so foolish, Lannister,” Steelshanks sounded angry again. “You risked your life for an intimate moment with your woman! Do you know how many people are after your head? And you go about risking your neck for her again? Are you mad?”

Jaime shrugged. “The things I do for love,” he said simply.

 

 

*****

 

 

At Steelshanks’ insistence, they had stopped at an inn on the way and found some fresh clothes for them, they had both been soaking wet, and it made sense to change if they wanted to avoid falling ill during the reminder of their journey. Brienne was back to tunics and breeches, the ugly pink gown discarded. They sat in silence, eating their meal.

“Why did you lie to them?” Brienne asked him suddenly. “Why did you have to tell them that we were… that we…”

Jaime couldn’t believe the wench. He had got them out of a sticky situation, and here she was, complaining about a petty lie.

“In case you didn’t notice, I saved our necks, wench,” Jaime retorted. “I don’t think we would be going home, if they had ever happened to find out about our little adventure.”

“You could’ve said something else, found another lie,” Brienne was blushing as she said this. “Why tell him that--” she hesitated “--I was _your_ woman.”

“I never said that,” Jaime felt his face grow hot. “He assumed it. I was just trying to think of a suitable lie, he just happened to look at us and jump into the most logical conclusion that came to his mind, that we were...” he refrained from using the crude word for _‘getting intimate’_.

Jaime could hardly blame Steelshanks for the assumption. Seeing Brienne wet in the rain when they had stopped for shelter had stirred unmentionable feelings in him. The way the water droplets had clung to her eyelashes and dripped down to her cheeks as she fluttered them; he had always found her eyes pretty, but today they had been more than just pretty, he had no words to describe what those beautiful eyes did to him! Her lips were adorably soft and moist, what would they feel like against his? The way her gown had stuck to her skin, he had seen her naked in the baths, but he had not noticed then how smooth and soft her skin was. The way the wet gown had accentuated her curves, particularly her neckline...what would it be like to--

“What happens to my reputation?” Brienne asked angrily. Jaime was glad to have been interrupted, another second and his imagination would have traversed to dangerous realms “I’m a maiden. I still am, but due to your unfortunate lie--”

“Do you really think Steelshanks will bother to spoil your reputation?” Jaime countered. “If it comes to that, rest assured, I’ll vouch for your honour.”

“Tell me wench,” Jaime asked irritably, when Brienne said nothing. “Is the idea of being my woman so repulsive? Why are you so angry? It was just a silly lie. He assumed that we were together, and I just played along.”

Brienne looked away silently, avoiding his question. A few minutes later, she turned back to him.

“Thank you,” she said with so much sincerity in her voice, that his heart melted. “I heard what Steelshanks said, that you came back for me despite all odds--”

“It was nothing,” he said shortly. “Like I said, it was just the right thing to do.”

Jaime was worried. To lie to Steelshanks was one thing, but for him to slip into such forbidden thoughts about her was another matter altogether. He groaned-this was going to be a long and tedious journey, and his recent change of heart towards the wench was not helping things at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have a few more little events to narrate until the end of their journey, but as of now, I've not decided whether to continue with this or not :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne wants to know if Jaime still thinks she's ugly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm planning to taking this ahead as a set of little incidents that happen on their way back to KL, things that make them slowly but surely fall in love...

The continuous bout of torrential rains had put a dampener on their travel plans for the day, and they were forced to stay overnight in the same inn. Steelshanks made arrangements for all of them, and it was decided that Brienne had to share with Jaime. Her face grew warm when Jaime informed her of the plan.

“What happened wench?” Jaime teased. “Scared to spend the night with me?”

“No…Why would I...” she stammered, finding herself at a loss for words to counter his mockery.

“Don’t worry,” he went on in his usual flippant tone. “I’m not interested. That was just a tale I had made up earlier to save our lives. I’m glad Steelshanks believed it, and it worked.”

Brienne knew only too well that he was not interested, he didn’t have to bother reminding her about that. A handsome man like Jaime with an ugly wench like her-it went far beyond even the wildest imagination possible. She loved Renly, and him and him alone. There was no room for anyone else in her heart, Renly’s memories would suffice for her to live out the rest of her life fulfilling the oath that she had sworn! As for Jaime, Cersei was the only woman who would ever be in his heart, he had told Lady Catelyn so, hadn’t he?

Despite all this, her mind wandered off-what would Jaime look like, well groomed and dressed like a proper Lannister? She felt herself blush-if he could look so damn attractive in rags, covered in mud, with unkempt hair and a shaggy untidy beard, what would he--

“Are you alright, Brienne?” Jaime snapped his fingers, shaking her out of her reverie. “What are you thinking about?”

Brienne shook her head, pushing these thoughts away and hoping that he had not noted her blush.

“Are you blushing?” he examined her face carefully. Damn, he had to notice everything!

“I was just…” she halted, thinking of what to say. “Reminded of Renly.” she blurted out, not knowing what else to say.

“Ah,” was the only response from him. After a long spell of silence he spoke again “So, pretty boy Renly still holds a special place in your heart.” Brienne knew better than to answer his taunt, so there was no more discussion on that subject.

Since there was still some time to go before supper, Jaime wanted a drink.

“Come along, Brienne,” he invited her graciously. “Have a drink with me. We are on the last leg of our journey, and you’ll be spending just a few more days with me. So why don’t we get to know each other better?”

Well, that was unexpected. All the months they had spent together, they had never had even a single civil conversation, thanks to Jaime’s flair for sarcasm and mockery. Every word out of his mouth was some snide remark about her looks, or some comment or a taunt. This had been the situation when he wanted to ‘ _get to know her better’_ during the earlier days of their journey. She had better keep away from him if she didn’t want to get insulted further.

“I don’t drink, Ser Jaime,” she politely refused. “I would rather finish my meal and go to bed early. We have a long day of travel ahead.”

“Oh please, wench,” Jaime implored. “For my sake, just come along even if you don’t partake. Can’t we try to have a decent conversation?”

“No, I’m tired. I’ll just go upstairs,” Brienne wanted to excuse herself as quickly as possible and turned to the stairs, when Jaime took her hand.

“Don’t go,” he said, giving her an intense look that stirred something in her heart. “Sit with me for a while. I need someone to talk to.”

Brienne was in a fix. Ever since Jaime had lied to Steelshanks that they were in love, she had begun to feel awkward in his presence. He had not changed, and nor had she, so what was the reason for this sudden discomfort? That was why she had been uneasy with the prospect of sharing a room with him. But at the same time, he was just requesting her for her time and company, so that couldn’t be so bad. What could possibly go wrong?

“Fine,” she sighed, but stood rooted to the spot when she realised that Jaime was still holding her hand.

“Ser Jaime, my hand...” she said, flustered.

“Right…” he muttered, releasing her immediately. “I’m sorry.” His face turned a bright shade of red. “Let’s go,” he mumbled, choosing to talk to the ground instead of her.

They picked a corner table and seated themselves there. Brienne chose not to drink, whereas Jaime got himself a mug of ale. A few minutes of silence passed where Jaime was busy gulping down his drink, occasionally glancing at her from above his glass. Brienne was slightly miffed-why had he brought her here, if all he had wanted was peace and quiet?

“Why were you so angry earlier?” Jaime asked her without warning, an odd expression spreading across his face “Am I that bad, wench? I know, I’m selfish and I lack honour, but--”

“Excuse me?” Brienne interrupted him, confused. What was he talking about?

Jaime was on his second drink now. “Being my woman,” he murmured, leaning across the table and gazing deeply into her eyes. “Why is that thought so unbearable?”

“I didn’t say that,” Brienne felt herself blush. “You are putting words in my mouth, ser.”

“Why did you look so ill at ease then?” he demanded.

“That was because…” What could she say? She herself didn’t know why it had bothered her so much. Before Harrenhal, before their capture, she didn’t care about Jaime. The last few days had brought about a change in her feelings towards him. That had been far from surprising, he had saved her honour, her life at the risk of his. But was that the only reason for her change of heart?

She was saved the embarrassment of answering him by Steelshanks and his men who had just entered the inn. They seemed drunk as they came in dancing and making merry. A couple of them seated themselves at their table, one of them next to Brienne.

“Here they are,” the man leered at Brienne. “The _lovers_.”

“Tell me, Lannister,” he turned to Jaime. “You find her beautiful?”

Jaime choked on his ale. “What?” he spat.

“See…” the man said mockingly, turning to Brienne. “Your man finds you ugly. Ever heard of the story of the beautiful girl and the ugly beast? My old nan used to tell me that when I was a boy. You two fit right into it, it’s just the genders reversed.”

Brienne’s heart sank. It was a fact. Jaime had always found her ugly and he couldn’t stand the sight of her since the day he met her, and here she was, thinking that he had changed, that he probably thought her to be…

“That was just a story,” the man went on, sneering at her. “Never happens in real life, which is why I am surprised--”

“How is it?” the other fellow asked Jaime, smirking.  “Fucking an ugly wench? I bet you close your eyes during the act, Kingslayer, wanting to get it over with quickly.”

Brienne had heard enough. Not wanting to stay and get herself humiliated further, she stormed out of there, not bothering to spare a look at Jaime. He didn’t care, he was just quietly listening to them insult her, maybe even enjoying their taunts. She could have easily taken down all of them single handed, but instead, she decided to make a dignified exit.

+++++.

She lay on the bed, tired and wishing for sleep to come before Jaime did. He might be in any moment and she was not interested in any sort of conversation with him. The past few days had given her the impression that he had changed, but she was sadly mistaken. The old Jaime would have agreed with those men and joined them in taunting her. While he had not gone to the extent of making fun of her, he did seem to agree with them. His face and body language clearly said so. Insulted and irritated, she closed her eyes, trying to push herself to sleep. Maybe she had expected too much of him.

He was a lion, and a lion, despite being injured or humbled, still had claws. She had to take care not to get too close to him, for there was always a fear of getting hurt.

 

*****

 

Jaime was too stunned to react to Brienne’s abrupt exit. He had expected her to attack those idiots, punch them, break their teeth. Sulking away to the room quietly was a reaction that had left him completely speechless.

“What happened, Kingslayer?” the first man mocked. “You do agree with me, don’t you? Your woman is the ugliest wench…”

“Her name is Brienne,” Jaime corrected him angrily. “She is the Maid of Tarth, a highborn lady. You will give her the respect she deserves.”

The men around him started laughing. “What do you see in her, Lannister? How the hell did you manage to fall in love with her?”

Brienne was ugly by all standards, and Jaime himself had always felt so. He still held the same opinion about her looks, but these days he had somehow managed to look beyond her physical appearance. Her pure character, her innocence, her honour and fierce sense of loyalty had appealed to him so much without him even realizing it. How could someone be so good? And how could someone so good put up with a selfish, honourless oathbreaker like him? Coming back to her looks…

_She wasn’t that bad looking…_

She had lovely eyes. Gods, he could drown in them! The curve of her waist and her bosom evident against the rain soaked dress was still fresh in his mind, and the texture of her skin, so soft and smooth. Her lips…

“Do you look into her face when you fuck her, Lannister?” the man rudely interrupted him.

Enough of their nonsense! His first instinct was to defend her, to punch these men in the face until he drew blood. But that would only end up starting a drunken brawl. There was no way he could come out victorious, he had one hand less, and he was severely outnumbered. It made sense to ignore them and leave the place, which was what he ultimately did.

His stomach was rumbling and he desperately wanted something to eat. He went to get some food for himself, when it struck him that Brienne had not eaten anything either.

+++++

Brienne was fast asleep when he entered the room. “Brienne?” he called out tentatively. There was no response.

“Brienne, are you awake?” he called out louder, stepping closer to the bed. Again, silence.

Jaime frowned, a doubt creeping into his mind. Was she really asleep? Or just pretending? He sat down on the bed next to her, having every intention to nudge her and wake her up, but before he could do that, he sat still, staring at her for a few seconds.

_She wasn’t that ugly._

Had he started seeing her in a different light? Or was he trying to convince himself that his initial perception about her was wrong?

_Not that ugly...Beautiful eyes…soft lips...and the freckles on her face..._

Noticing a stray lock of hair falling on her eyes, he tucked it behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek for a minute more than necessary. Now that was a mistake, for she woke up with a start and almost beat him up, shocked at the sight of someone with his face so close to hers.

“Stop!” Jaime shouted. “Don’t kill me, wench. I was just…” What would he say he was trying to do?

“It’s you!” she held back, heaving a sigh of relief. “What were you trying to do?” she demanded, seeing him bent in an awkward position.

“You were asleep?” he tried to change the subject.

“Ofcourse I was,” she looked at him suspiciously. “What were you doing…?”

“Insect…There was a fly bothering you...” he stammered. “I was just swatting it off your ear.” What the fuck was he talking? She stared at him for a moment, but to his relief, asked no further questions.

“I’m going back to sleep,” she declared glumly, and slumped back to her pillow.

“You haven’t eaten, wench.”

“I’m not hungry,” came the grumpy voice again.

Always the stubborn wrench! He touched her arm gently, and could feel her stiffen under his touch.

“Get up Brienne, I’ve got you dinner,” he said in a soothing tone.

“Thank you for remembering that I haven’t eaten,” she said sarcastically. “Once you had drunk your way through the bar, and had your fill at dinner, not to mention joining those idiots in insulting me, you _finally_ spared a thought for me.”

“I wasn’t…” Did she really think that he had been mocking her?

Brienne got up angrily and sat facing him. “No doubt, you did enjoy making fun of me. The way you hid a laugh when that man called me ugly. The first statement you made to me was about my looks, remember?”

Ofcourse he did, but he had never thought that she would take it so literally. “You still remember that, Brienne?”

“Like hell I do,” she shot back. “I remember every damn insult that you hurled at me. Did you really expect me to forget all that?”

Jaime was speechless. He had never expected her to take everything he had said about her so much to heart.

“I didn’t mean all that, wench,” he tried to explain.

“Don’t you lie to me!” she lashed out angrily. “You still think that I’m ugly.”

“I am not...I don’t think that…” he hesitated, confused about what he wanted to say. “I mean, I don’t mean everything I say literally...” and added under his breath “I am not even sure about what I am saying right now…”

“Have you had too much to drink?” she scrutinized his face.

“Yes…” he said. “I mean, not exactly. I just had a drink...or two drinks...maybe three…”

“Why don’t you go and join them in mocking me?” she hissed. “Why are you sitting here with me?”

“Because I don’t think of you the way they do,” he said, being completely truthful.

“I don’t want dinner,” she turned away. “You might as well go to sleep since you have had your fill.”

“I have not eaten either,” he confessed.

“What? Why?” she looked at him, slightly mollified, and a bit guilty at this revelation.

“How could I eat when you are hungry?” he whispered, and then hastily added “I mean… I am a knight, and eating while you go hungry is not chivalry, so I got some food for you.”

Jaime was angry with himself. What was he going on and on about? How would that have sounded to her?

Brienne wordlessly took the plate from him and started eating. Relieved, he joined her.

“Do you really think so too?” she asked, when they had finished eating. “That I’m ugly?”

“How does it matter to you what they think of you?” Jaime said dismissively. “They are just a bunch of idiots who can’t respect an independent woman.”

“I don’t care about them,” she said. “What do _you_ think?”

_You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen!_

“I have had too much to drink tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay awake any longer,” Jaime said, yawning. “Good night, wench.” He lay down on his side of the bed, facing away from her.

_Do you look into her face when you fuck her?_

Those words kept ringing in his ears. Ofcourse he would look into her lovely eyes if he ever managed to get intimate with her! What would it be like? The thought had come to him earlier, when they had just met. Wouldn’t be a bad idea, he thought, unable to suppress a smile.

What the hell was he thinking? That was not him, but his drunken mind jumping into all sorts of stupid imaginations. He felt himself stir, as he pictured Brienne naked under him and was glad that the wench couldn’t see his little _predicament_. Tomorrow morning, he would be sober, and back to normal and he would find the wench ugly as usual. Pacifying himself with that thought, he closed his eyes and tried to think of Cersei, but unfortunately, that didn’t seem to help much...

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff! Jaime comforts her again!

Brienne woke up clutching her belly. It was still dark, a long time to go until morning, she guessed. _Damn, it's already time!_ she realised, as she felt something familiarly sticky and uncomfortably warm between her legs. Worried that she might stain the bedspread, she quickly got up and made the necessary arrangements to prepare for the next few days of routine discomfort.

Once she had her towels and everything else in place, she came back to bed. She threw a look at Jaime who was fast asleep beside her. She had never shared a bed with a man before, tents, yes, when she was in Renly’s guard, but never a proper bed. As if that wasn’t awkward enough, now she had to deal with having her blood, and that was going to multiply her uneasiness to a great extent. To add to that the severe cramp in her stomach and the squeezing pain in her lower back.

She sat there, holding her stomach in pain. _This will soon pass,_ she tried to console herself. _And it’ll come again next month,_ she groaned to herself. The sight of Jaime lying there, snoring next to her was not helping. How dare he sleep so peacefully when she was twisting and turning in pain? Without provocation, she was hit by a sudden anger towards Jaime, not just Jaime, rather towards every single creature of the male sex. What right did they have to enjoy their rest, when women had to suffer this every month?

To add to her annoyance was Jaime’s cryptic response to her question. Ofcourse she was touched that he had been quite nice to her; he had brought her dinner when he realised that she had slept on an empty stomach. No one had ever done such nice things for her. But he had conveniently avoided answering her key question. Which meant only one thing: _he still found her ugly and undesirable like he always had in the past!_  The only positive thing about the recent change in his attitude towards her was that he didn’t say it to her face like the old Jaime would have.

 _Undesirable._ She quickly chided herself, what difference did it make to her if Jaime found her undesirable? She had never bothered about what he had thought of her on their first meeting, even when he had told her quite bluntly that he found her ugly. It didn’t matter to her then, so why was she so anxious about what he might think of her now?

 _I’m always bad-tempered and moody when I bleed,_ she concluded. Yes, that had been the reason for her to have been so touchy and sensitive last night, the cause for her mood swings and her recent tendency to attach too much importance to his words and opinion. Yes, this seemed to be logical. She heaved a sigh of relief. All this was a passing phase, and she would soon be back to normal after her cycle.

_I’ll finally stop thinking about him._

Just then, she felt Jaime stir next to her. He sat up, wide awake, leaning against the pillow.

“Are you alright, wench?” he asked, regarding her closely. The only light in the room was the moonlight streaming through the window, she could still make out his eyes boring into hers.

“I’m fine,” she grunted, quickly turning away from him. The last thing she wanted, was to listen to his taunts in the middle of the night when she was in pain and emotionally low.

“No, you’re not. When women say they’re _fine,_ they usually are not,” his tone had the familiar tinge of mockery to it.

Brienne was quiet. He was right, but she had no intention of admitting it to him.

She could feel him getting off the bed. Coming around to her side of the bed, he lit a candle on the nightstand nearby and sat down next to her.

“What is it?” his tone was softer now, and the sarcastic edge to it had disappeared.

“I told you,” she said brusquely. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“You are in pain,” he observed.

“Nicely concluded,” she snapped. “I would be impressed...if it wasn’t so obvious.”

“What’s wrong?” Jaime went on relentlessly. “Did you hurt yourself?”

_Oh, fuck him… fuck all men!_

“Did you go out there and start a brawl with those men?” he pressed further. “Come on, wench, I know they insulted you, but you should have let it go.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, will you keep quiet!” she exclaimed angrily, unable to control her language.

“Gods, I’ve never heard you swear like this before, woman!” he said, shocked. “And no, I’m not going to shut up until you tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“Go back to sleep.” she insisted.

“If you don’t tell me what’s bothering you, I’m going to sit next to you and keep asking you the same question all night,” he plowed on. “Now I know you would not want that, you hate it when I keep talking, so out with it!”

“It’s normal,” she said in a low voice, suddenly embarrassed that she was talking to a man about her blood. “Nothing that _you_ would understand, anyway,” she muttered under her breath, thinking she was inaudible.

But he had heard her. “Why wouldn’t I understand?”

“Because it’s not something that I can explain to you,” she tried to keep her voice calm.

“Tell me, Brienne,” he insisted, moving closer and touching her arm gently. “If there’s something I can do--”

“There’s nothing you can do!” she shot back. “I’m born a woman and this is something I have to live with, I don’t have a choice. Now go away! You don't have a solution to my problem.”

Jaime looked at her for a few seconds, and then his mouth curved in a soft _‘O’_ of comprehension.

“I understand--” he began, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Ofcourse you don’t,” she cried out. “No man would ever understand. You want to help me? The best thing you can do is to keep quiet.”

“It just never occurred to me that you would suffer from something like this…” he blurted out.

“What do you mean? Is it so unbelievable that I would bleed?” Brienne shouted, fighting back tears, determined not to cry. “I’m a woman, I know you don’t think of me as one, Ser, but what you think doesn’t matter. I have a womb, and I do bleed.”

“Brienne, I didn’t mean it like that--” he said, sounding slightly guilty.

“Please stop bothering me, Ser Jaime,” she said, having had enough of his sarcastic nonsense.

“Fine, as you wish, my lady,” he left the room.

He was gone. To get drunk again with the men who had insulted her? What a perfect excuse it would be to avoid her! What else did she expect of him? That he would stay and comfort her? No man in his right senses would want to put up with a woman throwing tantrums. And he was just one of them, she could hardly blame him. With a pang, the full implication of his words dawned on her, he had just confessed that he didn’t look upon her as a woman. Well, he never did, right from the beginning, did he? _Is that a woman?_ Was that not his reaction when he had first set eyes on her? And he still believed the same.

Resigned to the fact that she would have to suffer the night in pain, she was about to lie down when the door creaked open. Jaime was back.

He came closer and cleared his throat.

“I went down to get some hot water,” he mumbled. “But I couldn’t find any. They say, applying hot water to the affected area can help relieve the pain.”

She jerked her head towards him, unable to believe what she had just heard.

“But there is another way,” he whispered, sitting next to her. “Come here,” he put his arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer.

As soon as he touched her, Brienne felt goosebumps all over her body. It wasn’t as if he had touched her for the first time, but…

His hand was at her back, under her tunic, in contact with her skin. The pain apart, she was now beginning to feel _other_ sensations. _Focus on the pain,_ she told herself, _that’s what is bothering you._

He began moving his fingers rhythmically along her lower back in a slow massaging fashion.

“Feeling better?” Jaime asked her soothingly. “Massaging always helps alleviate cramps. It eases the flow.”

How the hell did he know all this? Cersei, ofcourse. They had been intimate, so he would’ve done this for her a million times. At once, Brienne felt an inexplicable flash of anger towards him.

His hand had now moved to her belly…

“What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed with the effect that his fingers were having on her.

“It helps the lower abdomen as well,” he explained. “The underside of your belly--”

“I know what lower abdomen means,” she said indignantly, worried about the repercussions of his touch on her body. The pain forgotten, she was now beginning to feel a different kind of ache, something she had never experienced before.

“You women really are tetchy during these times,” he commented. “Tell me wench, they say women are in a murderous mood during this time of the month and their instinct is to kill any man in sight. Is it true?” he teased. “Am I to fear for my life?”

“Don’t you mock me!” she was tired and irritated, and wasn’t ready for his taunts. “I said, you wouldn’t understand, then why are you trying to…” she pulled away from him, having had enough of his efforts to help.

“Oh, come on, Brienne.” he said placatingly, giving her a warm smile. “Why would I make fun of your pain? I respect you women for the fact that you bear more pain than us...” He became serious and looked into her eyes. “I am genuinely trying to help you. I can’t see you in pain.”

Slightly abashed with her outburst, Brienne said nothing.

Sensing no further resistance, Jaime pulled her into his arms and began massaging her again. And this time, having no energy to argue, she sank into his embrace, letting him do whatever he was doing.

“Is it helping?” he asked, his fingers deftly working to release her muscles.

“Mmm..hmm...” she moaned, closing her eyes in relief. He really was good! Involuntarily, she rested her head on his chest and found herself slowly drifting off to sleep.

+++++

It was broad daylight when Brienne opened her eyes. Her heart rate shot up when she found herself lying on her side wrapped in Jaime’s embrace. His arm was around her waist, his warm hand resting on her stomach. He stirred in his sleep, tightening his grip on her, as his beard nuzzled against her neck. His chest pressed closer to her back, evoking feelings deep inside her that made her uncomfortable.

 _How did this happen?_ From what she could recollect, he had massaged her back to relieve her of her pain. How and when did she end up spending the night in his arms?

 

*****

 

Jaime had never imagined that his attempt to provide the poor woman some comfort would backfire on him.

Brienne had fallen asleep on him, moaning and sighing in relief. While he was glad that he was able to reduce her discomfort, her moans ended up having a very different impact on him. He fervently hoped, that in her pain she wouldn’t note his _condition_ when she collapsed into his arms without warning. Thank the gods, she had fallen asleep within minutes.

Jaime was surprised with himself, he had never once offered to do this for Cersei. He had seen her have her blood so many times, but it had never occurred to him even once to try and relieve her discomfort. Why then, for this wench, who he barely knew, did he bother to go to this extent? He realised that there was a very simple explanation to this-he couldn’t bear to see her suffer! Just like he could not sit and watch while she was about to be raped. Like he could not go back home when he knew that she was in danger in Harrenhal.

_Whether he liked it or not, Brienne had become an important part of his life!_

He remembered her accusation that he didn’t think of her as a woman. How grossly mistaken she had been! The way his body had reacted sometime back as soon as he touched her-it was the reaction a man would have when he touched the woman he desired. This was proof enough that she was so wrong. Her femininity was beginning to hit him more often than he would have liked these days. He had begun to observe her more closely, and her proximity was enough to get him agitated and bothered. Her features-the same features that he had found so repulsive earlier, were beginning to appeal to him in a delightful manner now.

This was the second time he had seen Brienne in such a vulnerable state. And what a typical woman she was, delicate and sensitive! He smiled to himself-a few months back, he would have laughed at the thought of associating such adjectives to the wench. He had seen her at her most sensitive and vulnerable, and that had awakened a protective instinct in him. He wanted to be there for her, wrap his arms around her, to comfort her and wipe away her tears, to keep her safe.

And these unsolicited thoughts made him uncomfortable.

 _Just a passing phase,_ _I’m missing Cersei, it’s nothing more than that._ With that conclusion firmly rooted in his head, he closed his eyes.

+++++

When he woke up, Brienne was not in the bed. He sat up, mulling over the happenings of the previous night.

“You’re awake?” she asked, as she stepped out of the bath. She was fully dressed and seemed to be much better than last night.

“How’s your pain now?” he inquired. “Slept alright?”

Brienne sat down next to him, her cheeks colouring a bit “Yes,” she hesitated. “Ser Jaime, I apologize for inconveniencing you--”

“For using me as a pillow?” he asked, giving her a mischievous smile that caused her blush to deepen. “That’s quite alright, wench. I didn’t mind it at all.” _Didn’t mind her sleeping in his arms? What the hell was he saying?_

There was something he too had to clarify “When I said I didn’t expect you to suffer like this, I didn’t mean at all that…” he stammered. “I mean, I do think of you as a woman...I...” What else was he supposed to say? That she had begun to stir hitherto unknown emotions in him?

“I understand,” Brienne said, lowering her lashes, the blush still burning bright on her cheeks. “I must also apologize for all that I said last night. I should not have taken it out on you.”

“You can do that anytime, wench,” Jaime found himself saying. “I am always there for you.”

When she narrowed her brows, he quickly corrected himself. “I mean...I am here to help in whatever way possible.”

“Thank you, Ser Jaime,” she looked into his eyes and gave him a sincere smile that melted his heart. “For last night.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he said softly.

_I would do it again for you, wench. Just say the word and I’ll be there for you._

_Always._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More awkwardness ;)

The weather had finally taken pity on the travellers, with the sky clearing up that morning to mark the beginning of what promised to be a bright and sunny day. They decided to resume their journey and were all set to leave the inn, when Steelshanks caught up with Jaime, clearly wanting to strike a conversation.

“So, Kingslayer,” he asked, giving Jaime a wicked smile. “Sleep well last night?”

“Why would I not?” Jaime countered, his tone matter-of-fact and calm. Brienne rolled her eyes, she could almost accurately predict where this conversation was going, and it couldn’t mean well for either of them.

“You do know what the men call her these days, don’t you?” Steelshanks lowered his voice conspiratorially. “The Kingslayer’s whore.”

Brienne was enraged at this revelation, but she knew better than to react. She threw a glance at Jaime and was surprised to see his reaction-he stood rooted to the spot, his face contorted with rage and fist clenched as if he would like nothing better than to break the man’s nose. The last thing she wanted was a brawl, so in an attempt to stop him, she impulsively reached out to him and closed her palm around his fist comfortingly. Almost immediately she could feel him calm down, the tension draining off him and his hand relaxing at her touch. Fortunately, Steelshanks had moved ahead, leaving Brienne alone with Jaime.

“It’s not worth,” she said gently. “Let it go.”

“He insulted you,” Jaime fumed. “How else do you expect me to react?”

“He insulted _me_ ,” she said. “And I have decided to let it be. Why are you so upset? And come on, it’s not his fault. He just reported what he heard.”

“He called you a whore!” Jaime shouted. “Do you think I should tolerate that?”

“His saying so doesn’t make me one, does it? I paid no heed to him, neither should you,” she said placatingly. “That’s what you did last night, remember?”

Her words seemed to have a mollifying effect on him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded “Fine,” he sighed, his expression slowly coming back to normal. “Now, can we get going? Or would you rather prefer us standing here, holding hands all day?” he teased, giving her a smile that lit up his handsome features.

Brienne froze. _Gods, I’m still holding his hand!_

“I’m sorry…” she said, letting go of his hand immediately. “I didn’t mean to--”

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine, wench,” he whispered, gazing deeply into her eyes. “Not that I mind--”

“We should be going,” she turned away blushing, and hurried ahead trying to avoid his gaze. But he soon caught up with her, relentless and in no mood to give up.

“I had never imagined you would take my example so seriously, Brienne,” he started again. “Ignoring them because I did so, I am honoured.”

_The mockery again._

“At times you do make sense,” she retorted. “It rarely happens, but when it does, then why would I not listen to you?”

“No, I’m not mocking. I really am honoured,” he said in a sincere tone, carefully reading her face. “It’s just hard to believe...I’m not used to people trusting me.”

“I trust you, Ser Jaime,” Brienne replied, before she could contain herself. “And I believe in you.” Jaime opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say another word, Steelshanks was back.

“You two,” he called out. “Planning to stay here all day?”

+++++

The horses trudged along the swampy roads all day, and by the time noon had passed, everyone was tired and sweaty. Although it didn’t rain, the weather was hot and humid, and Brienne was thankful when it was evening and time to call it a day. While the men were busy setting up the tents, she decided that she badly needed a bath. She had spotted a stream on their way, and had noticed that it was quite secluded and perfectly suitable for a solitary dip. She had been uncomfortable for a while and had to change her towels. She picked up the necessary stuff from her saddlebag and made her way out, not bothering to take a spare set of clothes. She had only one other pair of tunics and breeches left which she had to preserve for the remaining days of her travel.

After making doubly sure that there was no one around, she stripped and stepped into the cool water, placing her clothes neatly on a rock nearby. What a welcome relief it was from the sweltering heat! She began washing herself, thinking about Jaime’s reaction to her insult. While his anger on her behalf was totally unexpected, a strange warmth filled her heart as her mind continued to dwell on it-a feeling that was now threatening to become increasingly familiar, the more she thought about Jaime. No one had ever defended her like that before, except Renly, ofcourse, in that solitary incident. But to be honest, he too didn’t care much about her after that. But Jaime...she really couldn’t understand him most of the times...

_Stop thinking about him!_

Frustrated, she began scrubbing herself with renewed vigour. When she was done washing away the dirt, grime and blood off her body, she was about to climb back to the rock, ready to get out and get dressed.

That was when she spotted him. Brienne felt a shiver run down her spine, she wasn’t sure if it was due to the cold water or his un-announced arrival or the sight of his semi-naked state.

Jaime approached the stream clad only in his breeches. Not having seen her yet, he made his way in her direction, busily trying to undo his breeches. Only when he reached edge of the water did he look up at her. And when their eyes met, he froze, as did she.

_Where the hell is his shirt? And why the hell am I bothered whether he is clothed or not?_

After a full minute, when the awkwardness of the situation hit Brienne, she panicked and reached for her towel, quickly wrapping it around her in a frantic bid to cover her modesty before he could take a proper look at her. Averting her eyes from him, she hastily stepped on the rock, but mis-calculated and ended up slipping on the moss covered stone and losing her balance. Strong arms caught her before she could fall, and soon she found herself staring into the piercing green eyes that she had been so desperately trying to avoid. In an attempt to balance herself in her precarious position, she wound her arms around Jaime’s neck clinging to him dearly, worried that she might slip again if she let go. With his support, she managed to find her footing and placed herself firmly on the stone, in the process pressing closer to him. The way he held her brought back memories of the bathhouse in Harrenhal. Though their intimate contact had not affected her then, it felt very different now. She was growing so achingly aware of his body against hers, that it had set off a tingling sensation all through her and she feared that her heart might beat its way out of her chest.

“What are you doing here?” she finally managed to find her voice, her throat suddenly completely dry.

“I could ask you the same thing, wench,” he smirked, least bothered that his half-naked torso was so gloriously on display for her, and that too at such close quarters. For some odd reason, she found herself more agitated than she had anticipated, and felt her cheeks grow hot. His sharp eyes scanned her all over as he spoke, making her feel even more uncomfortable with her delicate condition.

“You left without informing any of us,” he went on accusingly. “I was worried. I came searching for you--”

“Partially clothed?” she blurted out, before she could stop herself. She felt like hitting herself on the head when she realized what she had said.

“So you _did_ notice, after all. Not bad!” he remarked, the smirk now turning into a sly grin. “I came looking for you, but when I came upon this stream, I got tempted and decided to take a bath. But why did you come here?”

“I was taking a bath,” she stated the obvious. “Until you came along.” The conversation was now beginning to sound absolutely silly inside her head. Brienne focussed her eyes on Jaime’s face, trying not to pay any attention to his strong arms or his firm chest. Despite his maiming and his current weakness, his muscles were quite well defined, and his broad shoulders...

“I can see that,” he observed, still holding on to her waist. Brienne felt herself blush as his eyes darted down to her chest, lingering there for quite some time. The towel didn’t do much to cover her, and she felt as if her whole body was on fire.

“We’re even now,” he breathed. “You didn’t let me drown in the bathtub, and I’ve done the same for you today. A Lannister always pays his debts.”

“You didn’t have to,” she argued. “I am a good swimmer. I won’t drown.”

“You may be,” Jaime agreed. “But you don’t seem to mind me holding you, wench.”

“Actually, I do mind...” Brienne lied, when it dawned on her that she would have to be the one to do something to get out of this awkward situation. “I need to get dressed.”

“Go on, then,” he whispered, leaning closer and fixing her with an intense gaze. “What’s stopping you?” he went on, still not bothering to loosen his grip on her. She tore her eyes away from his, and extricated herself from his hold. Stepping aside and putting some distance between them, she clutched the towel closer to her chest in a futile attempt to cover herself better.

“Damn!” she cried out in exasperation, when she noticed that in her earlier scramble to cover herself, she had ended up getting the only set of clothes that she had, completely wet. But she had no other choice, she had to wear these until she got to the tent where she could change.

“Could you…” she asked, gesturing to him to turn around so that she could get dressed.

“Are you seriously thinking of getting into those wet clothes again?” Jaime asked incredulously. “You’ll fall sick, wench.”

“I don’t have a choice,” she said desperately. “My spare set of clothes are in my saddlebag--”

“Stay here,” he commanded. “I’ll go and get your bag. I don’t want you going back to that tent, all wet and dripping.”

“Why?” Brienne was curious. “It’s not that far, I’m sure, I can manage.”

“No, you won’t!” he snapped. “I mean, I know you can manage, but I can’t have you going there in front of all those men looking all wet and drippy,” he sounded angry at the idea.

“But what about your bath then?” she wondered aloud.

Jaime gave her a sly look “Who said I’m going right away? Why don’t you make yourself comfortable on that stone, while I finish my bath,” he began undoing his breeches, unaffected by the fact that she was looking at him. Brienne hastily averted her eyes in embarrassment.

“You can look at me if you want, wench,” he said mischievously. “I don’t mind--”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m _not_ interested!” she said indignantly. He took one look at her face and burst out laughing at her reaction. To her irritation, she realized that what she felt was exactly the opposite of what she had just vehemently declared. He was _attractive_ and she was definitely _interested._ She couldn’t help stealing covert glances at him as soon as he got into the water. Renly was good looking in a pretty sort of way, but Jaime…well, he was more handsome, well-built and definitely more masculine compared to Renly.

_But why the hell am I comparing him to Renly? I must stop thinking about this man and focus my attention on Renly instead._

“Why are you blushing, Brienne?” Jaime asked, as soon as his keen eyes had caught her staring at him “It’s not the first time that we are seeing each other naked.”

Brienne swallowed, recollecting that day at Harrenhal when he had joined her in the bath, looking like half-a-god and half-a-corpse. Today, he was in much better health and all the more-- to put it politely-- _appealing to the eye!_

_I should stop staring at him like this! It’s not right._

It took her all the willpower that she could muster to resist looking at him when he climbed out of the water, dripping wet and wearing absolutely nothing. More than once, she was tempted to look in his direction as he got dressed, but determined not to succumb to that craving, she consciously focused on the ground instead.

“Come on, Brienne,” he called out, pulling on his breeches. “I am not that bad to look at.”

“I know,” she muttered under her breath, inaudible to him. “That’s the whole bloody problem.”

“I know I don’t look my best now,” he went on, oblivious to her inner confusion. “but you should see me once I’m back home. I am quite good looking, you know, though you may not agree with that claim right now.”

_Oh well, that’s what I am dreading-seeing you in your complete splendour!_

Unfortunately, she had to reluctantly agree with him, while picturing what he would look like in her mind’s eye...

_Enough!_

“I told you, I am _not_ interested.” she insisted, masking her internal battle with her distracting thoughts about him with feigned anger. “Now if you could please get dressed quickly--”

  
  
  
  


 

 

 

*****

  


 

 

 

Jaime walked back to the tent, his thoughts completely disrupted by visions of the wench barely covered and squirming uncomfortably in his arms. As if the vivid images of her in the rain soaked clothes clearly detailing out her figure were not enough to torment him, _this_ had to happen!

Brienne was broader compared to Cersei, and much taller, but he couldn’t help thinking how perfectly she fit in his arms. Had she not pulled away, he would never have let go of her. Cersei was delicate and feminine, no doubt, but Brienne, although strong, had all the necessary curves in all the right places. How could he fail to notice that in Harrenhal?

_I wonder why she hides herself in such ill-fitting clothes!_

He immediately made up his mind to ensure that she had access to clothes that suited her better once they got to King’s Landing.

_She would look good in blue, it would go well with her lovely eyes._

He hated admitting it to himself, but what he saw had definitely appealed to him. Not that he was happy with what he felt. He felt a bit ashamed for staring at her chest so blatantly, and was absolutely displeased with his obvious reluctance to let go of her. For days to come, he would be unable to forget the shy look that she gave him when he caught her in his arms-one of such innocent embarrassment! The way she blushed at his touch was so charmingly bashful, that he almost found her _attractive_.

_Gods, I am now beginning to find Brienne attractive! What the fuck is wrong with me? I should focus on Cersei, the love of my life. My beautiful sister…_

But Cersei had never once reacted to him so adorably!

Jaime couldn’t wait to return to the Red Keep and get back to normal. All the time that he had spent with Brienne, he had been filthy, unkempt and dressed in rags. No wonder, the wench had never looked at him twice, and to his knowledge, had never harboured a good impression about him. He found himself becoming increasingly eager to show her what he truly looked like. What would she think of him then, he found himself wondering!

_What the hell? Since when did I start bothering so much about her opinion of me?_

_Ever since you confessed your heart out to her_ , a small voice inside his head answered his question.

And what was she thinking, wanting to go back to the camp dripping wet! Brienne was mannish, no doubt, but she was still a woman. And those were men out there, men who had probably not had a woman for days, men starving for a woman’s touch. There was no way he would allow Brienne to go there looking like that. He couldn’t risk her honour again.

+++++

“Here you are, my lady,” he handed out her bag to her, and settled himself on the stone, facing in the opposite direction.

Once she was fully clothed, they made their way back to the camp. Brienne carefully avoided his eyes and walked next to him in silence, leaving Jaime wondering if he had spoken too much earlier.

_Have I upset her?_

The last thing he desired was to get on the wrong side of her. “Brienne,” he began carefully, clearing his throat. “I probably said too much earlier...if I have offended you in anyway, I am sorry--”

“Since when did you start apologising for your comments, Ser Jaime?” Brienne looked at him, amazed.

“I am not _that bad_ , wench,” he said defensively. “I was just teasing you. And I did apologise when I was nasty to you at the bathhouse, remember?”

“Not that bad, huh?” Brienne repeated, narrowing her brows.

_She doesn’t believe me!_

She bolted ahead of him, saying nothing beyond that, but Jaime was absolutely sure that he had seen her lips curve in a shy little smile just before she took off.

 _Not bad at all!_ He smiled to himself, following her with a new-found spring in his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I know this entire chapter is a complete cliche with most of you having read millions of scenarios with JB in this situation. But the shipper in me just couldn't help it and I had to go ahead with it :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heart to heart chit-chat where Jaime flirts relentlessly and the two idiots very nearly confess...but since this is close to canon, they are still idiots and they actually don't.

“You haven’t yet answered my question, Brienne,” Jaime was persistent. “Do you love Renly? I know you fancy him, but--”

“I don’t have to answer that, Ser Jaime.”

Visibility upset and agitated, Brienne bolted ahead of him with the plain intention of avoiding any further discussion on the matter. Jaime decided to drop the subject for the time being, not wanting to hurt her any more than he already had. He found himself beginning to grow increasingly sensitive about her emotions, trying his best to make sincere efforts to cast aside his caustic humour, taking care to refrain from causing her any distress. But these thoughts about Renly and her had been nagging him incessantly for days, and he had been meaning to find out more.

Did Renly still occupy the same special spot in her heart even now?

Jaime sprang the question at her every now and then, whenever she least expected it. He believed that catching her unawares would bring out her true feelings, and he had to know what really was in her heart.

_This is none of my fucking business!_

_Are you jealous of pretty boy Renly?_ A tiny voice inside his head nudged him.

_No… definitely not. Why would I be?_

“Fine,” he resolved to let go of it, coming out of his trance and hurrying after her. “I won’t ask you about Renly again if it bothers you, alright?” He searched her face for a reaction, hoping for a favourable one. They were riding a few feet behind the rest of the party so that they could talk in private-rather, he could talk to her, for she only did the listening, having scarcely spoken a few words in this leg of their journey.

“Are you still upset about all that I said at the stream?” he asked her sheepishly, the likelihood of that still lingering in his mind. “I told you, I was just joking. I am not interested in you, and I know you feel the same about me.”

“I am mindful of that, Ser,” Brienne said curtly. “I would appreciate it, if you don’t keep reiterating--”

“Why are you eternally angry with me, wench?” Jaime let out a heavy sigh. “Right from the day we met, all you have been doing is pouncing on me at the slightest available opportunity--”

“And all _you_ have been doing, is provoking me without reason!” she exclaimed, her face flushed and eyes shining brightly.

“I agree, I used to, but not anymore,” Jaime said defensively. “So why all this resentment now? What have I done to invite your wrath today?”

“I am not angry with you,” she insisted, clenching her teeth.

“Ofcourse you are,” he fought back a smile. “Look at you!”

Jaime was enamoured by the way her cheeks turned pink in anger, and the fire in her eyes was something that he just couldn't look away from… She looked so adorable whenever she was annoyed with him! He was once again uncomfortably reminded that he was now beginning to notice and appreciate even the minutest details about her.

_Just a passing phase. I’ll be fine once I’m back home, once I meet Cersei again._

“I’m sorry, forget all that I said,” Jaime wanted to divert the topic. “Tell me about your family.” He had the new-found desire to get to know her better.

“Why?” she threw him a suspicious glare.

“I want to know more about you, that’s all,” he said sincerely. “Everything I know about you is hearsay, so why don’t you tell me your story yourself?”

“My life has not been as interesting as yours,” she tried to dismiss his request. “I have had a pretty dull--”

“Sometimes, Brienne,” Jaime whispered, fixing her with a steady gaze. “Dull is interesting.”

_And I’ve just discovered that I like dull._

Brienne flushed at his comment, but swiftly composed herself and began telling him about her family-about her father, her siblings who died very young and her awful septa who broke her confidence, and instilled the belief that she would never find a suitable match very firmly in her head.

“She has been proved right, hasn’t she?” Brienne had such a forlorn look in her eyes, that Jaime almost wanted to reach out to her and take her in his arms.

“What do you mean?” he asked, fighting the urge to pull her into an embrace.

“All the times I have been betrothed--”

“You were betrothed?” Jaime blurted out, stunned by her revelation and unable to hold back his reaction.

_She never bothered telling me this!_

“Thrice,” she added, nodding in affirmation. “However, as you can see none of them turned out well, much to my father’s displeasure.” A look of disappointment clouded her face at the mention of her father.

_Thrice?_

“Seriously?” was all Jaime could manage.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Brienne said indignantly. “Which fool would bother to marry me, isn’t it?”

Jaime opened his mouth to deny her allegations, but she had not finished yet.

“As my luck would have it, they all did agree to marry me...but not because they wanted me,” her blue eyes were full of hurt “So I suppose, you are right. No one really wants to marry the ugly wench.”

“Brienne, I never--” Jaime began, but she picked up pace and raced ahead of him, obviously wanting to put as much distance between them as she could, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Why had the information about her betrothal made him so uneasy? Brienne was a highborn lady and the heiress to a noble house. So she would eventually have to marry and produce heirs as all highborns were expected to, if not now, then certainly some day in the future. Why did that idea seem so disturbing to him?

+++++

They were sitting by the fire, quietly eating their dinner, Brienne having placed herself a good few feet away from him. Jaime felt bad that yet again, he had been the cause for her anguish. He had done this numerous times in the past, and if he had to count, the fingers of both his hands wouldn’t suffice. He had never regretted his words earlier, but now, he could feel them weighing down his chest. He had to talk to her, tell her that he didn’t mean whatever he said the way she had perceived it.

“Brienne,” he began tentatively, moving closer to her. “I didn’t mean it the way you thought I did--”

“It’s not your fault,” she said sadly, her eyes shining in the glow of the fire like sapphires reflecting the rays of the sun. “I am just unworthy of marriage.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Just look at me!” she cried out. “No man in his right senses would want to marry me!”

_I am looking at you, wench… I do that more than necessary these days._

“I have failed my father,” she lamented. “I didn’t marry, didn’t give him an heir--”

“I am sure there will come a day when someone would _choose_ you, and marry you for who you are,” Jaime said reassuringly. “Not for your name or your heirloom, but because he loves you, because he understands your worth...”

“Such a man is yet to be born then,” Brienne let out a mirthless laugh. “But I think that’s fine. I am not keen on marriage either. The sole purpose of my existence now is to serve Lady Catelyn’s family.”

“Is that all there is to life?” Jaime asked, wondering how she could be this selfless. “Fulfilling oaths and serving someone else’s family?”

“To me, yes,” Brienne said firmly. “Marriage and family have no place in my life.”

“What would you do if you were in love?”

“What?” Brienne’s eyes went round with shock at his unexpected question.

“Yes,” Jaime pressed further, not sure why he was asking her all this.  “Love, Brienne. Surely you can fall in love, can’t you?”

Brienne pressed her lips together, undoubtedly disturbed by the question. “Look, I know you are referring to Renly. While he was definitely someone I admired, he never...” she hesitated, before admitting “I do love him, yes, but it’s completely pointless, and you already know why.”

“Who said anything about Renly?” he leaned closer, looking into her eyes. “It could be someone else...”

_Renly never deserved you, nor did any of those idiots you were once promised to...And I don’t even know why I am still talking about this._

“That’s never going to happen,” Brienne said dryly.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Brienne,” Jaime’s eyes were now locked on to hers. “You say your life is dedicated to fulfilling your oaths, making people you barely know, happy. But what if…”

He paused, contemplating whether to go on with what he was about to say.

“What if you do happen to meet someone on one of your pursuits? A complete stranger...” he spoke very softly now. “Someone you gradually start caring for more than you can ever imagine.”

Brienne froze, but then quickly recovered and shook her head in denial. “There is no way--”

Jaime had not finished yet.

“I know it is quite far fetched. But just assume for the sake of an argument that it _does_ happen, and let’s just say... he cares for you too...” his gaze never left her for even a second. “What would you do then? Would your vow still take precedence? Or…” he paused for a second. “Would you have the courage to follow your heart?”

“Love has no place in my life,” she declared vehemently. “It doesn’t matter what my heart says.”

“You never know when it might strike you, Brienne,” he shrugged. “Life is a long journey, anything could happen on the way. And...we don’t get to choose who we love.”

When she was silent, he pushed further.

“Come on, wench, this is just a hypothetical situation,” he said, trying to coax her into answering. “What would you do in such a case?”

“All I want to do right now is--” she took a deep breath “--to get you back to King’s Landing in exchange for the Stark girls. Nothing more than that, and nothing less.”

Having said that, Brienne got up and darted off towards their tent. Jaime was still looking at her, and as she was about to enter, she turned around. Their eyes met for a brief second before she rushed inside, leaving him staring at the darkness for a long time after that.

Renly was the only man she ever loved. And now that Renly was gone, all she loved was her duty, her honour and her oaths. Nothing else could ever command more importance in her life, and judging by the way she spoke-certainly not love. Oddly, that conclusion made his heart heavier than he had ever felt it to be. But what the hell had he been thinking? Blurting out such nonsense about falling in love with a stranger! He had behaved tactlessly, as usual.

Getting himself to his feet, he went after her.

 

 

*****

 

Brienne was fretting and fuming as she lay on the floor trying to catch some sleep after a long day of travel. How dare he trivialize her feelings with ridiculous speculations like this? Fall in love with someone other than Renly-as if it would ever happen! How was he supposed to know what men thought about her? As if someone would be blind enough to even spare her a second look, let alone love her! Tormented by the painful memory of her betrothals, she fought back tears as she pushed aside the possibility of falling in love...ever.

And what the hell did he mean by referring to the so-called stranger? What was he trying to imply? Surely he had not meant...no, that was impossible. Reality hit her hard when she realized that a man like Jaime would never...he loved Cersei, she was all he could ever think about. Brienne was just someone he loved to mock-his antithesis, the ugly woman who would never find love. As usual, he had been taunting her, ridiculing the possibility of a woman like Brienne ever falling in love and being loved in return.

“Brienne?” she heard Jaime call out softly as he lay down next to her. The tent was big enough, why could he not find somewhere else to sleep?

“Yes, I am awake,” she replied wearily. “What is it?”

She sat up, leaning against the wall. “I know what you are about to say, Ser Jaime,” she said, before he could speak. “I know you were teasing me, and I am not angry with you.”

“That is absolutely untrue,” Jaime clarified, sitting up beside her. “If you thought I was mocking you... I merely pointed out the possibility of love in your life, and it being more important than your vows--”

“I know no such thing as love,” she retorted.

“Not even for Renly?” he prompted.

Brienne was silent. Not because of Jaime’s mention of Renly, but because the first and only name that flashed through her mind when she thought about who she cared for, was not Renly. It was the irritating, despicable stranger that she had happened to meet on one of her bloody pursuits.

Yes, it was him.

_The man she had sworn to hate the minute she had set eyes on him._

_The man who wouldn't even bother to look at her twice, the one who never once failed to call her the ugliest creature he had ever seen._

_The man who was so desperately in love with his sister, that he had eyes for none other than her._

_The man whose mere presence next to her was enough to set her heart aflutter._

_The man who was her sworn enemy, despite having repeatedly saved her and stood by her._

_The dishonourable Kingslayer who had treated her with more chivalry than most of the honourable knights in the seven kingdoms._

“I love Renly,” she declared stubbornly, though her heart screamed something entirely different “But I know better than to pine for him.”

_Or for anyone else…One can only look at something as beautiful as the moon from afar, not desire it..._

“Renly didn’t deserve you,” Jaime said brusquely. “I am sure, you will find love--”

“Not interested,” she snapped.

“Fine,” Jaime raised his hands in resignation. “I won’t talk about Renly anymore. But you must know one thing, wench...”

Brienne sat there with bated breath, wondering what comment he might throw at her now.

“Not all Lannisters are bad,” he said. “I know, you’ve heard things about my father and about me, but I am not--”

“I know there is honour in you, Ser Jaime,” she said with utmost sincerity that came from the bottom of her heart.

“What I share with Cersei--” he began.

“--is not going to tarnish my image about you,” she interrupted him hastily. “You saved me, you stood by me and came back for me when no one else did. That’s far more honourable than anything else in this world for me.”

Jaime gaped at her in surprise.

“I am glad you didn’t cringe when I mentioned my sister,” he sounded relieved.

“I did think you were...disgusting,” Brienne admitted. “But that was... then.”

“What do you think about me now?”

“You really do love her, don’t you?” Brienne remarked, diverting his attention, deliberately wanting to avoid his question.

“Yes,” Jaime replied with a smile. “And I can’t wait to get back to her.”

_I’m such an idiot, prying into his life, asking him the obvious…_

Brienne’s heart sank at his confession, though this was something she had already known about him even before she had met him.

“I am sorry, if I asked you something that I should not have… about your sister.”

Jaime seemed to be lost in thought, he was barely even listening to her.

“Tell me something, Brienne...” he said hesitantly. “If you had to choose between someone like Renly and someone less honourable, someone with a tainted reputation, someone like...um....”

“I doubt I would ever encounter such a situation,” she stopped him before he could go any further with his wild sense of imagination. “So the quandary of making such a choice would never arise.”

He was back to his usual mockery again. Something that he had relentlessly pursued right from their first day together, ever since he had offered to ‘overpower her, fling her down and tear off her clothes’. It had been a joke initially, but it was now beginning to get tiresome and almost painful.

“Fair enough,” Jaime lay down next to where she sat. “All the same, think about it,” he added, before turning to the other side to retire for the night.

Brienne lay there pondering his words for quite a while, and as soon as she shut her eyes, to her dismay, all she could see was a vivid image of Jaime’s face. Alarmed, she forced herself to think of Renly until sleep eventually got the better of her.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tries to repay her debt to Jaime, but at what cost?

“Can’t sleep?” Jaime's eyes fell on Brienne, only to find her tossing and turning on the floor at the opposite end of the tent. After the awkwardness that ensued from last night’s conversation, they had not spoken to each other, wordlessly settling down to sleep in their respective corners. Awakened just after a few hours of sleep with his head heavy with these thoughts, Jaime had taken it upon himself to clear the tension between them. After all, was it not his big mouth that was responsible for all that had happened? Why the fuck did he have to ramble on about love and marriage?

“No,” came her cold, terse response. Had he really offended her this time?

“Listen, wench,” Jaime sat up, abandoning all hopes of getting any sleep. "About all that I said last night… I was neither mocking you, nor did I mean any offence.”

Brienne was now wide awake as well. Leaning against her side of the wall, she sat in silence, watching him, waiting to hear him out. She had misunderstood his intentions, and he had to make an effort to sort out the mess that he had created.

“I merely pointed out that there are things in life apart from vows and promises, and others' interests,” he went on, encouraged that she had not begun to argue yet. “By no means did I imply that you should give up on your aspirations, or your pursuits in life. I know how much you want to be a knight. That’s what you will be, and a damn good one, I’m sure. I also know, that you really loved Renly--”

“I _love_ Renly,” she corrected him, her tone flat and expressionless. “I always have, I still do, and I always will.”

Jaime was enveloped by a strange sense of emptiness and frustration. “Renly is dead.” As soon as these words tumbled out of his mouth, he regretted his insensitivity.

“But his memory is not!” she cried out, distressed and agitated.

“Brienne, I’m sorry--”

“I am going for a walk,” She stormed out of the tent, leaving him gaping at her.

Within seconds, he found himself running after her. He couldn’t let her wander off alone in the middle of nowhere, in the early hours of dawn. It was still dark, and they ran the risk of being attacked, if spotted without an armed escort. He had to convince her and bring her back.

She ignored him when he managed to catch up with her. For a while, they walked in silence, straying into the dense foliage, a few meters from their campsite, with Brienne pretending as if he didn’t exist. The sun had not risen yet, and twilight was just beginning to set in.

“Why don’t you tell me about the times you almost got married?” Jaime broke the silence, genuinely curious, but at the same time, apprehensive that he might be treading into dangerous territory.

“Why? So that you can find newer reasons to mock me?” she glared at him indignantly.

“Do I look like I am about to ridicule you, Brienne? Why do you always think the worst of me?”

He could hardly blame her though, his inability to communicate effectively being the cause for most of their arguments. He didn’t know how to articulate to her, that he was long past the stage of mocking and taunting her. Looking back, those days felt like a different life, one where he hated her, where he wanted nothing more than to get rid of her, to kill her. But now, the way he felt about her was...he took a deep breath, well, now things were different.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Brienne’s expression softened a bit. “It’s just that, they are not exactly pleasant memories, and certainly not worth reliving.”

Jaime decided to let it be, not wanting to press any further if she didn’t feel like talking about it.

“The last one was a middle-aged man, you know,” she said suddenly, her decision to open up taking Jaime by surprise. She turned away, presumably wanting to hide her distress from him. How entirely different, yet how surprisingly similar they both were! He could relate to her, not having been able to confide in anyone about his deepest, most intimate, and darkest secret until he was fortunate enough to gain her acquaintance, her trust and her friendship. She too was, he realized, in a similar situation, trying to put aside her unpleasant past, having never come across anyone in her life to pour her heart out to.

“Brienne, if you ever want to talk about it,” Jaime felt like lending her an ear. “You know, I’m here to listen.”

_Always. Just say the word._

“He was almost as old as my father,” she went on sadly, turning to him, yet avoiding his eyes. “That’s what I have always been, a burden to be disposed off at any cost.”

“Not everyone thinks of you like that,” the words had left Jaime’s mouth before he could stop himself. Their eyes met for a brief second, but Brienne gave no response, and the two of them continued their stroll among the bushes.

“I challenged him to a duel,” she spoke again, her lips curving into a thin smile. “Told my father that I would marry him only if he defeated me.”

“I think, I can guess what happened next,” Jaime chuckled.

Brienne nodded, grinning. “I don’t remember, how many broken bones it resulted in. Two, or maybe three, I don’t know, probably even more.”

“I am proud of you, wench,” Jaime said fondly. “I’m not joking, I really am.” he added, when he saw her smile fade, worried that she might take offence again.

Once again a smile graced her lips, but she said nothing this time, the faint pinkish hue on her cheeks making it evident that her reaction to his compliment was like any normal woman’s. No matter how hard she tried to be mannish and un-ladylike, deep down, he had discovered, that she was a lady. No less than Cersei, or any other noblewoman he had met, and no different from any of them, irrespective of how much she tried to deny it.

Jaime gave her a sideways glance, in a dilemma about what to say next, when two men suddenly sprung out of nowhere, taking them by surprise. One of them lunged at him, but unarmed and one-handed, Jaime felt utterly useless, incapable of doing anything other than feebly fending off his attacker’s blows with his left hand. The second assailant went after Brienne.

A few minutes of struggle later, Brienne had managed to get rid of her attacker, but Jaime had no such luck. Seeing his predicament, Brienne came to his rescue, throwing herself at the man locked in combat with him, trying to wrestle the assassin off him. She was eventually able to overpower him, but by then, the other assailant, the one Brienne had put down earlier, was on his feet, charging at Jaime with his dagger.

Before he could strike, Brienne flung herself in his path, taking the blow squarely on her chest.

Screaming, she collapsed to the ground, a thin stream of blood trickling down her chest. Horrified, Jaime took one look at her, his ability to think, his logic and coherence dissolving at the sight of the wench lying there, broken and lifeless. But he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted for long, as both the assassins had now rounded up on him, taking their positions to strike him down. He braced himself, ready to fight till death but awaiting the inevitable. What happened next was a blur, and in an instant, both his attackers were on the ground, clearly dead.

That was when he saw Steelshanks along with a couple of his men.

Struggling to his feet, Jaime’s first thoughts went to Brienne. Rushing to her, he kneeled by her side and scooped her in his arms, a dull ache rising in his chest at the sight of her gasping for breath. A nasty patch of blood was growing wider by the second on the left side of her chest, a few inches above her breast.

_Thank the Gods, it missed her heart!_

Atleast she was alive. Unfortunately, his relief was short lived, for she was fading fast. “Brienne, stay with me,” he cried out frantically, cupping her face in his hand, while her head slumped to one side. She didn’t seem to hear him, and with one last flutter of her eyelids, she passed out in his arms.

_Please don’t die, wench. Not today, not like this!_

Jaime didn’t leave her side, cradling her, his eyes fixed on her pale face. His senses were numbed by the unforeseen turn of events, and his mind went momentarily blank about what he was expected to do next.

“Is she alive?” Steelshanks inquired, bending down to check her pulse.

Jaime nodded. _Only just._

“Get away from her, Lannister,” he ordered. “We can take her back to the camp, and Qyburn can do whatever it takes to fix her up.”

“I’ll carry her,” Jaime insisted, making an unsuccessful attempt to lift her. He didn’t want Steelshanks, or anyone else to touch her. In his normal state of health, he could have easily carried her, but he was weak and yet to regain his full strength, his hand injury and the treatment completely sapping him of his energy.

“I know you are possessive about your woman, but since you can’t, you don’t have a choice. So get out of my way.” Steelshanks shoved him aside. “Unless we hurry up, I doubt she’ll make it. She is rapidly losing blood.”

+++++

“Don’t let me down,” Jaime warned Qyburn, his voice shaking, as they carried a blood-soaked Brienne into the tent. “I want her alive and completely recovered. Trust me when I say this, I won’t settle for anything less. Is that clear?”

“I can only do what is in my capacity. The rest is upto the Gods--” Qyburn began defensively.

Jaime grabbed his shirt in anger. “I don’t care what the Gods want, nor am I in the mood for any excuses,” he fumed, leaning into him menacingly. “Do whatever you want. Just bring her back to me.”

“I’ll do my best, my lord,” Qyburn reassured him in his usual fatherly tone, not losing his composure even after being threatened.

“Make sure you do _more_ than that,” Jaime hissed, his eyes boring into the maester’s. “If anything happens to her, I promise you, you won’t live to see another sunrise.” He released Qyburn, allowing him to go into the tent and tend to Brienne. His frustration had reached its peak now. _How could Qyburn be so calm when his wench was dying?_ He wasn’t even a proper maester, but he was the best they had, and he was their only way out.

For the next few hours, time had come to a standstill for Jaime.

He spent the entire time circling the tent like a predator, his pace increasing with every step, anxious as Qyburn worked on Brienne’s injury. He had been in there for quite a while, and Jaime’s restlessness was beginning to get the better of him.

_Those men were after me. She threw herself into the jaws of death to save me._

“You alright, Lannister?” Steelshanks had joined him.

_How can I be anything close to alright, when she is anything but alright?_

“Who do you think they were?” Jaime deflected the question.

“Could’ve been anyone who is after you,” Steelshanks shrugged. “As I keep reminding you, there are many who would pay anything to see your head roll. My money is on the Stark supporters, if there are any left. After what your father did to the family, it is only reasonable to expect that they are out for revenge.”

_She’s the unlucky one, the unlikely target lying with her chest cut open, fighting for her life, while I stand here unscathed._

“They seemed to be inexperienced,” Steelshanks went on with his analysis of the situation. “Armed with only a dagger apiece, you’d say they’re fools to take us on like that.”

_I don’t care who they are. It doesn’t matter to me, if they carried a dagger or a sword or a spear. All that matters to me, is what they did to my wench._

“She’ll be okay,” Steelshanks lay a hand on his shoulder. “Qyburn will sort her out.”

Her fate now lay in Qyburn’s hands.

“You really care for her, don’t you?” Steelshanks’ statement took him by surprise. “I just thought you wanted to fuck her, I never knew, she meant so much to you.”

_I never knew myself, until recently…_

Before Jaime could reply, Qyburn stuck his head out of the tent “She’s awake,” he announced, looking directly at Jaime. “The wound is shallow, so you can be glad that it’s nothing serious. She’ll recover soon. You can see her if you want--”

Jaime didn’t wait to hear the rest, dashing into the tent as if his life depended on it.

“Don’t let her strain herself too much, and give her this Milk of the Poppy once you have finished talking to her. What she needs the most, is a few hours of sound sleep.” Qyburn thrust the medicine in Jaime’s palm, and left the tent, leaving him alone with Brienne.

“Stubborn, stupid wench you are, aren’t you?” he murmured, sitting down next to her. They had tried to make her as comfortable as possible, piling up as many bedrolls as they could to ensure she had something akin to a bed.

She gave him a wan smile, grimacing as she turned her ashen face towards him.

“Why, Brienne?” he had to know.

“What do you mean?” her voice was a hoarse whisper, the words barely audible.

“You could have died!” Jaime tried to keep his cool, the distress in his voice threatening to betray his emotions.

“I know,” she sighed. “As do you, that these things are common in the life of a knight.”

“Don’t you get it, wench?” he was irritated with her casual dismissal of her near-death experience. “If something happened to you, I couldn’t…” he stopped, unable to go on. He valued her life, even if she didn’t.

“I’m fine, Ser Jaime.”

“Why did you put yourself at risk for me?” he was still unable to forgive her for her impulsive stupidity. “Why did you throw yourself in front of that knife?”

“Why did you jump in front of that bear for me?”

_I didn’t expect a favour in return for saving you, wench._

“So, Lady Brienne,” knowing her obsession with vows and oaths, Jaime found it plausible enough to believe that this could be the reason for her rash decision. “You decided to take it upon yourself to repay your so-called debt to me?” It was typical of her to have hit upon such a ridiculous idea.

_Was that all there was to it? A stupid debt?_

Brienne shook her head “I would have done it regardless, Ser Jaime,” she said softly.

“Did you protect me because you wanted to get me to King’s Landing?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her pale cheeks turning slightly pink. “That, and also because I--”

“I know,” Jaime interrupted, slightly relieved at the trace of colour on her otherwise washed out face. “You want to fulfil your oath to Catelyn Stark. All in good time, Brienne, but for now, you need to rest.” The last thing he wanted, was for her to exert herself too much.

“I’m better, Ser Jaime,” she made an attempt to sit up. “We are hardly a day’s ride from King’s Landing. I can rest once we make it there.”

Jaime gently, but very firmly lay her back on the bed. “You will not travel until Qyburn says you can. We can afford a few days’ delay. Once we get there, I assure you, I will personally facilitate you with everything that you need to resume your onward journey. But till you recover completely, you are my responsibility.”

“Here,” he fed her the Milk of the Poppy, as instructed by Qyburn. “You need to sleep now.”

“Thank you,” Brienne whispered, her eyelids drooping.

“No. Thank _you ,_ ” Jaime was so overwhelmed with what she had done for him, that he found himself at a loss for words to express his gratitude to her. No one had ever done such a thing for him, maybe his men occasionally had, but that was solely out of compulsion. This was no duty, nor was she under any obligation to protect him as the Boltons were in charge of his safety.

When Brienne had fallen asleep, he took her hand in his and softly kissed her palm, silently thanking the gods for keeping her safe, for showing him mercy, for not snatching her away from him.

_Since when did I start believing in the Gods?_

+++++

Brienne slept through the day, and had not woken up even at nightfall.

“I have given her another dose. Let her sleep through the night,” Qyburn told him, when Jaime inquired about her recovery. “Her body needs to repair itself. She will need a few more days to completely heal. But we need to be on the move again, lest those assassins attack again. So I suggest, we give her a day to rest, and then resume travel.”

“We will do whatever it takes to make sure she is back to normal,” Jaime said firmly. “If that means a delay of a day or two in our travel, so be it.”

Qyburn gave him a long hard look. “What is this woman to you, my lord?”

“My protector,” Jaime retorted, knowing fully well that she was much more than that.

“Is that all?” Qyburn raised his brows quizzically.

“Yes,” Jaime said emphatically.

Qyburn gave him a look of disbelief, but said no more about it. “My lord, I’ll sleep in the tent to make sure I’m available if she needs anything--”

“No!” Jaime didn’t trust Qyburn enough to leave Brienne alone with him “I’ll stay with her. I’ll call for you if there is a need.”

Qyburn nodded, making his way to the other side of the camp, towards his tent. “Your protector, you said,” he turned around, throwing Jaime a scrutinizing look. “Are you certain, that is all there is between you two?”

  
  
  


 

 

 

*****

  
  


 

 

 

Brienne opened her eyes the next morning to find Jaime snoring peacefully, sitting next to her, his hand tightly gripping hers. She flushed, as she recollected the previous day’s events.

Why had she jumped in the path of certain death, knowing fully well that she could do nothing to defend herself? Not because she was bound by any obligation to protect Jaime, and not with the intention to repay the debt she owed him for saving her life. She couldn’t live with herself if anything happened to him. When she saw the assassin charge towards Jaime, Renly’s death was the first thing that flashed through her mind. She couldn’t have yet another person who mattered to her, die in her arms like Renly.

Slowly, but surely, Jaime had successfully evicted Renly from her heart and made his way in.

She blushed, as she recollected that she had almost ended up telling him the truth last night. Maybe it was the effect of the medication, or that of her delirious state, but she counted her blessings that Jaime had interrupted her before she could bare her soul to him. By assuming that she had saved him to fulfil her debt to the Starks, Jaime had saved her the embarrassment of an inadvertent and awkward confession.

She had to keep reminding herself that he belonged to Cersei, and he always would. Nothing could ever change that. And her life belonged to the Starks. The only thing that would make sense, would be for her to leave King’s Landing as soon as she could, taking Sansa and Arya with her.

“Did you sleep well, Brienne?” Jaime had woken up and was staring down at her, his eyes filled with concern.

Brienne nodded, trying to sit up, wincing slightly “We should be on the move today. I am fit enough to ride.”

“Gods, wench!” Jaime chided her gently, pinning her back to the bed. “You can’t even sit upright. How do you plan to sit on a horse, let alone ride one? We are not going anywhere for two days.”

“What if they come back?” her voice was reduced to a whisper.

“The men are keeping a watch,” Jaime reassured her. “Don’t worry about that. You take rest, while I go and fetch something for you to eat.” When he realized that he was still holding her hand, he reddened and abruptly let go of it, getting up to leave.

“Ser Jaime,” she said, moved by his gesture, the lump in her throat making it difficult for her to speak. “Thank you for staying with me… for taking care of me. No one has ever done anything like this.”

“That was nothing, wench,” he seemed rather flustered. “You must be hungry, not having eaten anything for a long time. I’ll be back with some food for you,” he turned away, and Brienne could swear she saw him blush as he left the tent in a hurry, attempting to hide his face from her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm almost at the end of this set of missing S3 scenes/events. Just one more chapter to go after this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What transpires through their minds as they finally make it to King's Landing?

“You need to fill your stomach before doing anything else,” Jaime entered the tent, carrying a bowl full of steaming liquid.

Brienne sat up, extending her hand to take the bowl from him, but winced as she found it difficult to move her arm.

“Easy there,” he gently helped her to a reclining position, propping her up against the pillow. “Just sit back and relax, I’ll help you with the soup.” He brought a spoonful to her mouth, attempting to feed her.

“What? No!” Brienne looked at him, appalled. “My right hand is fine.” She tried to grab the spoon from him, but grimaced as the pain from her wound radiated to her limbs.

“I can see how _fine_ your hand is. So stop being adamant and listen to me atleast once in your life,” he scolded her softly. “Open your mouth,” he coaxed.

She sat stiffly, her lips pressed tightly shut. Not used to being served or waited upon, all this was pretty new and awkward for her. Particularly, when it was Jaime at the other end.

“You’re much worse than my niece,” he remarked, when she refused to comply with his demand. “It was far easier getting food down her throat even when she was three.”

Wary of the consequences of disobeying him, Brienne decided to cooperate. Jaime had a gift with words, and if she refused to give in to him, she would soon be at the receiving end of his verbal onslaught. She held back a smile at the memory of his non-stop nonsense during the initial days of their acquaintance. He had consistently managed to drive her mad with his incessant chatter. Off late, she discovered that her opinion about him these days was quite the opposite. Even mindless conversations with him turned out to be quite engaging. She found herself enjoying his company more and more.

“That’s my wench!” he beamed, as if speaking to a two year old when she finally parted her lips. He continued feeding her, not giving her a chance to speak until the bowl was empty. Confusion and conflicting emotions once again crowded Brienne’s head. Her embarrassment and discomfort aside, she was thoroughly overwhelmed with the way he took care of her. No one had bothered showering her with this much attention before.

“You didn’t have to do that, Ser Jaime,” she said, wiping her mouth with the towel he handed her.

“I know,” he concurred. “I didn’t have to, but I _wanted_ to.”

She had come very close to confessing her feelings for him last night, and his continued tenderness towards her made life even more difficult for her. There were times when she felt that the cold, sarcastic Jaime from the earlier days of their travel was much easier to deal with. All she had to do was ignore his snide remarks and insults, or snap back at him. But the new Jaime was an unforeseen challenge. How in the seven kingdoms was she expected to respond when he was trying to be extra nice to her? The fact that he now occupied a special place in her heart made matters worse for her.

“Can I come in?” Qyburn called out from outside. He stepped into the tent after Jaime shouted his permission to enter.

“How’re you feeling now, my lady?” he inquired, taking her wrist to examine her pulse.

“Still unable to move my hands, and the pain persists,” Brienne pulled a face as Qyburn bent her arm. “But I’ll live.”

“I presume, you will need assistance to eat--” he began, when his eyes fell on the bowl in Jaime’s hand.

“You’re able to hold that bowl and eat by yourself?” he asked Brienne, surprised. “That’s incredible progress in one night.”

“No, I...” Brienne tried to explain, her cheeks burning. “Ser Jaime…” she stammered, unable to go on.

Qyburn turned to Jaime who went red in the face. “I was just trying to help her,” he mumbled, looking away from both of them.

“Indeed, my lord,” Qyburn gave him an amused look. “I came to give her the next dose of her medication. Should I go ahead, or will you...” he waited for Jaime to respond, his lips curving in a faint smile.

“Give it to me,” Jaime grabbed the vial from his hand.

“Very well, my lord,” he got up. “I should be going. Let me know, my lady, if you need anything,” he said, addressing Brienne. “Though I believe, you won’t be needing my help anymore. Ser Jaime has been taking very good care of you.”

Brienne nodded, blushing even deeper. “Thank you, maester.”

Qyburn halted just as he was about to step out, and turned to Brienne. “Did you know, my lady, Ser Jaime was beside himself with anger and frustration when he saw you lying there unconscious? Nearly uncontrollable, if I must say so.”

She looked at Jaime, surprised. She knew he was worried about her wellbeing, but to such an extreme?

“I speak the truth, Lady Brienne,” Qyburn said, as if reading her mind. “He almost choked me to death. He threatened me with dire consequences if I failed in your treatment.”

“I didn’t exactly mean--” Jaime interrupted feebly, but Qyburn didn’t stop.

“That’s not all,” he went on, closely observing Brienne’s expression. “That was exactly the way he reacted when he heard that Locke had refused your father’s offer for your ransom. Once past his rage, he blackmailed Steelshanks into returning for you.”

Despite her discomfort at the knowledge of this revelation, Brienne felt a comfortable warmth envelop her body.

“He does care for you, my lady.” Qyburn had the last word, leaving Brienne alone with Jaime and an uncomfortable silence.

“Did you actually threaten to kill him?” Brienne gaped at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as soon as the maester was out of their sight. “And blackmail? Seriously?”

“He was just exaggerating...well, some of it,” Jaime explained, as he fed her a few drops from the vial Qyburn had given him. “Yes, I did threaten him, but not all threats are meant to be taken seriously.”

“Thank you, Ser Jaime.” The least she could do was express her gratitude.

“Stop thanking me for every little thing, wench,” Jaime snapped. “I didn’t do it because I was obliged to you or for any other stupid formality. I took care of you because I--”

He got to his feet, sighing heavily. “Get some rest, Brienne. Call me if you need anything.” He left the tent, leaving her staring after him, perplexed and confused about the possible meaning of his incomplete statement.

+++++

“I’m fine, I am fit enough to manage a horse on my own,” Brienne tried arguing with him for the third time since morning.

“We’ve discussed this before, Brienne, you’re not riding alone. You’re coming with me,” Jaime’s tone was firm and conclusive. “Given the vulnerable state you are in, I don’t want you falling off the horse.”

Since the moment Brienne was attacked, Jaime had become over-protective of her. It had been two days now, and though her wound had not yet healed, Brienne felt confident enough to resume travel. She felt weak and tired, but they had to go on. The longer they lingered in the middle of nowhere, higher was the risk they were exposed to.

“Unless you want to ride with one of them instead of me,” Jaime asked, eyeing their escorts who were busy readying their mounts for the final leg of their travel. “Though, I’d rather prefer keeping you to myself.”

“Is that even an option you want me to consider?” she was genuinely surprised at his suggestion.

“Does that mean you choose me, my lady?” his eyes twinkled as they met hers.

“I choose _your horse_ , Ser Jaime,” she corrected, trying to maintain her composure. “Having you for company as a consequence, unfortunately, cannot be helped.”

“Don’t you mock me!” Jaime exclaimed, mimicking her perfectly.

“You never get tired of that, do you?” Brienne knew Jaime was just teasing her. He rarely mocked her these days, but off late, even his occasional taunts stung her, and she found it increasingly difficult to take them in her stride.

“I was just joking, Brienne,” he tried to pacify her. “I meant no offence.”

Brienne decided to let go of the argument, but Jaime had no plans to give up that easily.

“I knew you would pick me over any other man,” Jaime continued teasing, flashing her a cocky grin. “Most women do, they’re unable to resist me.”

She felt her face grow warm at this statement. It was a harmless comment, trademark Jaime, typical and expected of him, and she would have put it behind her had he attacked her with it a few months back. However, the kind of feelings she had now begun to harbour for him made her react in unexpected ways to his teasing. She grew more and more sensitive about what he said, and paid careful attention to how he perceived every statement and every action of hers. She was gradually becoming deeply conscious about his opinion of her.

She had to be careful. If she wasn’t, she ran the risk of falling deeper into her admiration for him, and that would do her absolutely no good.

That was precisely the reason she had been dreading the idea of sharing a horse with Jaime. They had ridden together before, but things had been different then. She never cared much about their physical proximity earlier. But the prospect of sitting next to him, her body pressed close to his seemed strangely terrifying now. Even the slightest physical contact with him-his touch, the brush of his fingers against hers, and the way he held her hand evoked strange and unknown emotions inside her. She blushed at the recollection of the time she had stumbled into his arms, nearly naked. Nor could she forget the memory of his fingers on her bare skin, when he attempted to relieve her of her cramps. Even Renly didn’t have that sort of an effect on her!

Brienne wanted to do her best to keep away from Jaime, to avoid him as far as possible to ensure that she didn’t get entangled in unnecessary complications of the heart yet again, but he was not making this easy for her. His continued concern for her, and his insistence to personally monitor her safety and wellbeing only resulted in Brienne thinking about him almost every minute of her waking time.

“Come on,” Jaime held out a hand to her, helping her on the horse. Mounting the beast with some difficulty, she seated herself in front of him. By habit, she reached for the reins, but he quickly seized control from her.

“I can use my other hand,” she insisted, trying to grab the reins from his hand.

“I know,” he whispered. His mouth was so close to her ear that she could feel his warm breath on her sensitive skin, and his arm grazed her shoulder enclosing her in an embrace as he took over the reins. “But you’re too weak. I’ll do it.”

“What are you doing?” she cried out in alarm, when he wrapped his stump around her waist, pulling her closer.

“I told you,” he said gruffly. “You’re unwell and incapable of balancing yourself. I can’t risk you falling off. So just put up with me for a while.”

_Gods, this was going to be difficult!_

Brienne felt her heart beat so fast that she feared Jaime might hear it, or worse still, feel it. Every time the horse jerked, at every bump on the road, Jaime’s grip on her tightened, pressing them together, sending a shiver down her spine. They had spent a good part of their ride to Harrenhal bound to each other on the same horse, but it felt nothing like it did now.

“Look at this,” laughed one of the men as he overtook them. “The lovers have been reunited again.”

“I bet, he wouldn’t miss the chance to take her from behind,” said another one, his tone lecherous as he eyed Brienne. “The way they’re seated, I don’t think he can resist it.”

“Ignore them,” Jaime breathed into her ear before she could react. “They’re not worth your rage.”

“You’re the reason for this,” Brienne turned to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. “Had you not put it into their heads that we’re--” she couldn’t bring herself to say _‘fucking’_ “--together, this would not have happened.”

“I’m a Lannister,” he said curtly. “Lying comes easily to me. And don’t you forget, I saved our skins after your little expedition into enemy territory.”

“I’m sorry,” Brienne mumbled, regretting the way she had accused him. “That was not how it was supposed to sound. It’s just that I--”

“--don’t want to be associated with an honourless oathbreaker like me, right?” he finished, staring away into the distance.

“I still disgust you, don’t I?” he asked after a long pause, his voice bearing an edge of sadness to it.

 _Have I upset him?_ She was slightly worried.

“That was not how I meant it. You are far more honourable than many knights I have met,” she said quietly.

_Admiration, and not disgust is what I feel for you. It’s my privilege to have the acquaintance of a man like you._

“Just ignore them then,” he replied, his tone returning to normal.

They rode on for the next couple of hours in silence, and once when the horse jerked violently, Jaime’s arm brushed against her breast, catching her unawares. She froze in response, drawing in a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry, Brienne,” Jaime murmured, backing away. “I didn’t mean to…”

Brienne sighed softly. Things were starting to get extremely awkward between the two of them, and she expected the situation to worsen once they were back in King’s Landing, once he was back in Cersei’s arms. How would he treat her then? Would he show her the same respect and regard as he did now? She knew he cared for her, but she was sensible enough to understand that it could never go beyond that. Not as long as he loved Cersei with all his heart and soul, not until the last breath of his life.

There was only one solution to this. She had to take Sansa with her and leave King’s Landing as soon as she could. She had to minimize all interaction with Jaime. Keeping away from him was the only way she could avoid the potential heartache that could arise out of getting emotionally close to him.

She remembered how much it had affected her when Renly had wed Margaery. This time, she had a vow to fulfill. She could not afford any distractions, nor could she run the risk of subjecting herself to another heartbreak.

She had to stay away from Jaime Lannister.

 

 

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

 

 

All Jaime could do, was hastily apologize to Brienne when his arm accidentally brushed against her breast. Unable to stop thinking about it, and disturbed by his unexpected arousal thanks to the wench, he desperately hoped that she had not noticed his _reaction_. With Brienne, this was now happening for the fourth time.

Fortunately, her response indicated that she had failed to take note of it. He consoled himself that his body’s response to her touch was nothing but a natural reaction. Any man would have reacted the way he did to a woman’s touch. He would, no doubt, have shown the same response if it had been any other woman instead of Brienne.

_It meant nothing._

He was still distracted, when Brienne suddenly winced in pain.

“What is it?” he asked, glancing around to see if he could spot Qyburn. No one seemed to be around in the vicinity. Jaime had been riding slowly for fear of hurting Brienne, and the others had gone far ahead.

“My wound hurts. It's the bandage,” she groaned. “Unless I set it right--”

Before she could speak further, Jaime stopped the horse and climbed off, helping her to the ground. “Sit down on that rock while I take a look at it.”

“I can fix it myself,” she said, heading towards the rock.

Well, if she was going to be adamant about it, so be it. “Fine,” he shrugged, turning his back to her, pretending to straighten their saddlebags. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her struggle for a few seconds, after which she finally called out to him.

“Why do you find it so difficult to accept help?” he asked, as he loosened her tunic just enough to access her wound.

“I am used to doing things on my own.”

“At times, it’s better to allow yourself to be taken care of by people who have your best interests at heart,” he advised, forcing himself to ignore her exposed skin which was now beginning to turn an interesting shade of pink as soon as he touched her. Focussing on the task at hand, he removed the offending bandage and began applying the tincture that Qyburn had given.

She twitched as he worked on her bandage, leaving him wondering if it was him or the wound that was responsible for her reaction.

+++++

They resumed their journey soon after their little halt. A warm afternoon breeze had set in, and Brienne had dozed off. In her sleep, she reclined, sinking into him and settling herself snugly in his arms, her head resting comfortably on his chest . Despite being taller and broader than him, her body fit perfectly against his. Jaime couldn’t resist the temptation to take his eyes off the road for a second to steal a glance at her serene face.

A part of him desired never to let go of her, to keep her safe in his arms. He tightened his hold on her protectively, at the same time taking care not to exert too much force for fear of waking her up. He wanted to slow down, to stop and never let this journey come to an end, but sanity and clear thinking prevailed, jolting him back to reality. Soon they would be back home, he would be back to his sister, and that would dramatically change things between them.

“Wake up, wench,” he whispered in her ear, nudging her gently. “We’re almost there.”

Brienne’s eyelids fluttered open, and she straightened herself as soon as she took note of the delicate position she was in. “You should not have let me fall asleep, Ser Jaime,” she said, flustered “I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“How could I wake you when you looked so comfortable in my arms?” he gave her a tender look, earning a blush in response.

_I could get used to her blushes! Especially, when I am the one responsible for them._

“What I meant was…” he faltered, searching for a suitable excuse for his thoughtless confession “You’re still sick, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

They covered the reminder of the distance to the Red Keep on foot, as soon as they entered the city gates. Brienne was weary from the journey, but she paid no heed to Jaime’s concerns and was adamant that she could walk without assistance. He took care to maintain a safe distance from her as they strode wordlessly towards their destination.

The street was beginning to flood with people, but Jaime’s fear that he might be recognised was laid to rest, when a passer-by mistook him for a country boy. He stole a glance at Brienne, and when their eyes met, she gave him a little reassuring smile. He forced himself to return her smile, despite the ache of sadness of that was beginning to creep into his heart, now that their incredible road trip had come to an end.

That was it. She would go her way soon, and he would be back to his life. This was the day he had been waiting for an entire year, supposedly the best day of his life, but now that it had arrived, why was he not wholeheartedly and unconditionally happy? Why was there a lingering emptiness inside him, despite wanting to be reunited with Cersei?

He realized with a pang, that sometimes, it was the journey that left a more lasting impact on a traveller than the destination itself, and that was exactly what he had been through. While Cersei had always been his destination, Brienne was his journey, the reason he made it to Cersei alive. He was returning home a changed man because of her.

This was the end of his association with the wench who had managed to awaken the goodness that had been dormant in him all his life, for unfortunately, it was always the destination that eventually mattered, and not the journey.

A new fear popped up in his mind at the thought of Cersei. How would she react at the sight of Brienne? As far as his sister was concerned, Brienne was enemy, a supporter of the Starks, and she would stop at nothing to make sure she was treated like one. Jaime decided that he would personally take responsibility for Brienne’s protection, but he wasn’t sure how long he could keep her safe in enemy territory.

There was only one way out of this. Brienne had to leave King’s Landing at the earliest, as soon as her wounds healed. He would not give Cersei or Tywin a chance to harm her. Knowing Cersei’s possessive nature towards her family, he dreaded the repercussions if his sister came to know of everything that had transpired between Brienne and him. To avoid any such complications, he had to minimize all communication and contact with his wench, and keep her away from himself and his family.

With a heavy heart, he made a silent resolution to stay away from Brienne, for her own good and his, and send her somewhere safe, out of the reach of his father and his sister.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here I am, finally done with this. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep writing this. This started off as a one-shot, I never imagined I would stretch it this much :)  
> I've been thinking of doing a sequel to this. With Brienne in KL for months, can they really keep away from seeing each other as they resolve to do at the end of this story?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Do share your comments :)


End file.
